Page:Works of Voltaire Volume 36.djvu/102

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And you, your odious rules, by Borgia taught, The art in governing mankind to oppress; The art of crimes with vilest maxims fraught, The art which tyrants openly profess.

May you to oblivion ever be consigned, With too much ease men learn the dangerous art The crafts of policy show a narrow mind. The best of statesmen has a generous heart.

The annals of all nations amply show, That tyrants never tasted sweet repose, But suffer all their lives unceasing woe, As they on others bring a load of woes.

They died with infamy, they died with rage, But Trajan, Titus, Antoninus wise; The ornaments and blessings of their age Lived blest, and calmly closed their dying eyes.

In thee those heroes shall again arise, Virtue with happiness shall still be crowned; You may with justice claim fair virtue's prize, Since in you every royal virtue's found.

Upon the throne we now behold a sage, A blessing which men rarely can obtain; He who is able to instruct the age, Is doubtless worthy o'er mankind to reign.

Presumptuous ignorance long has spurned the head Of patient merit, which defenceless lay; The fury dared on sciences to tread, And virtue's self was forced to bear her sway.