Epistle XXI. A New-years-gift presented to the same

My Lord,

Did I not find it by experience true;
Beggers are many, but Thanks-givers few.
I had not dar'd t'envade your eye, with this,
Mean gratulation whose ambition is,
But to be pardon'd, and the faults to smother,
With this which were committed by the other:
Yet since 'tis gratitude, it may please you,
If not as good, yet as 'tis strange and new.

Great Atlas of our laws and us, whose will,
Is alwaies active, back'd by unmatch'd skill;
To rule the Nation, and instruct it too,
And make all persons live, as well as know:

Though being among the undiscerning throng,
You suffer'd once, you acted all along:
Your sufferings did but like the Martyrs flame;
Advance your Person, and exalt your name:
Disclos'd your vertues, from their ullen Ore,
Make your gold shine, which was pure gold before:
Your noble soul tells us from whence you came,
You've both the British Nature and the name:
By your example, you instruct us what
Our Grandsires were, and what they aimed at.
Ere the phantastick French, or selvish Dutch,
Were grafted on our stocks, our souls were such,
As yours is now; Now we by you may see,
What once we were, what now we ought to be.

Great Men, great favours, to great men repay,
With great rewards, but I can only say,
Your Lordship, your great kindnesses have thrown
On one, that can return, or merit none:
But you must pay, and thank your self for me,
With your own goodness; That vast Treasury,
That found your love so generous and immense,
To cast on me, can find you Recompence.

A gift of worth my fortune can't bring forth,
Proportion'd to your kindness, or your worth.
Let me send what I can, it will not be
Enough for you, though't be too much for me:

What more to do or say, I cannot tell;
Much I can't do, nor can say much, and well:
But what I can not do, I will desire,
And what I can't express, I shall admire.

May this new year be prosperous may each hour
Bring you new blessings, in a plenteous shour!
May Heaven still smile upon you, and still bless
All that you do, and all that you possess!
May you live long and flourish too, that I
When I need succour, may know where to fly,
And find supplies! May all your actions be
As beneficial t'all, as this to me,
That when you dye (great pity 'tis you shou'd)
Th' whole land may mourn, not as you're great, but good.
And though I have not ransackt Sea and Shore,
To make you richer then you were before;
I hope this geateful, though but rude address,
May please you more, though it hath cost me less.