XI.
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e true, O Clio, to thy hero's name;But draw him strictly so,That all who view the piece may know,He needs no trappings of fictitious fame.The load's too weighty; thou may'st chuseSome parts of praise, and some refuse;Write, that his annals may be thought more lavish than the muse.In scanty truth thou hast confinedThe virtues of a royal mind,Forgiving, bounteous, humble, just, and kind:His conversation, wit, and parts,His knowledge in the noblest useful arts,Were such, dead authors could not give;But habitudes of those who live,Who, lighting him, did greater lights receive:He drained from all, and all they knew;His apprehension quick, his judgment true,That the most learned, with shame, confessHis knowledge more, his reading only less.
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