Distance Betters Dignities.

Kings must be dauntless; subjects will contemn
Those who want hearts and wear a diadem.

Give way, give way! now, now my Charles shines here
A public light, in this immensive sphere;
Some stars were fix'd before, but these are dim
Compar'd, in this my ample orb, to him.
Draw in your feeble fires, while that he
Appears but in his meaner majesty.
Where, if such glory flashes from his name,
Which is his shade, who can abide his flame!
Princes, and such like public lights as these,
Must not be look'd on but at distances:
For, if we gaze on these brave lamps too near,
Our eyes they'll blind, or if not blind, they'll blear.

As oft as night is banish'd by the morn,
So oft we'll think we see a king new born.

Kings must not only cherish up the good,
But must be niggards of the meanest blood.

By so much, virtue is the less,
By how much, near to singleness.

'Twixt kings and subjects there's this mighty odds:
Subjects are taught by men; kings by the gods.