Divine poems :: :: University of Virginia Library

Among the noble Greekes, it was no shame
To lose a Sword; It but deserv'd the name
Of warres disastrous fortune; but to yeeld
The right and safe possession of the Shield,
Was foule reproach, and manlesse cowardize,
Farre worse than death to him that scorn'd to prize
His life before his Honour; Honour's wonne
Most in a just defence; Defence is gone,
The Shield once lost, the wounded Theban cry'd,
How fares my Shield? which safe, he smil'd, & dy'd:
True honour bides at home, and takes delight
In keeping, not in gaining of a Right;
Scornes usurpation, nor seekes she blood,
And thirsts to make her name not great, as good:
God gives a Right to man; To man, defence
To guard it giv'n; but when a false pretence
Shall ground her title on a greater Might,
What doth he else but warre with heav'n, and fight
With Providence? God sets the Princely Crowne
On heads of Kings, Who then may take it downe?
No juster quarrell, or more noble Fight,
Than to maintaine, where God hath giv'n a Right;
There's no despaire of Conquest in that warre,
Where God's the Leader; Policy's no barre
To his designes; no Power can withstand
His high exploits; within whose mighty Hand

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Are all the corners of the earth; the hills
His fensive bulwarks are, which when he wills,
His lesser breath can bandy up and downe,
And crush the world, and with a winke, can drowne
The spacious Vniverse in suds of Clay;
Where heav'n is Leader, heav'n must win the day:
God reapes his honour hence; That combat's safe,
Where hee's a Combatant, and ventures halfe:
Right's not impair'd with weaknesse, but prevailes
In spight of strength, whē strength & power failes:
Fraile is the trust repos'd on Troops of Horse;
Truth in a handfull, findes a greater force.

Lord maile my heart with faith, and be my shield,
And if a world confront me I'le not yeeld.