University of Virginia Library

The Parallell is easie; was't not thus,
When Heav'n was pleas'd to be as kind to us?
We felt the prickles first, but then our Nose
Suckt in the sweeter vertue of the Rose
We had successe, as it were chose, and pickt,
And, what we feard to suffer, did inflict.
When Brett and Burrowes (that I speake their due)
Reviv'd to France, Talbot and Montague.
(O too like Montague, that lost thy breath,
By the same fatall Engine of quicke death.)
When the choyce valour of each rancke; and fyle
Made up a double Sea within the Isle
Of blood and teares, O give us thankes, kind heav'n,
And adde a vertue to our Fortune giv'n.
But soft, I heare the wise man say, Commend
No man, nor action till you see the end.
Our night is not yet past, or if it be
Tis but the dawning, not the day we see,
And but a misty dawning, we must know
That yet we have not payd God what we owe
And that would worse then any Madnesse be
To have a joy ere a security,
Vnder the rodd to laugh: yet we conclude
Patience does please no lesse then gratitude;
And he that can orecome a losse, nor be
Too much cast downe for want of victory,
Is in some part victorious, and can say
Tis blest to be a conquerour any way.
That we may all acknowledg his desert,
Who nobly gain'd a conquest of the heart
Of them, whose bodies he had conquer'd first,
To whom he then discover'd, what he durst,
And after what his Nature was, when he
In the sad field had spent his Cruelty,
For when they offer'd to redeeme their dead,
Summes which another would have vanquished,
He freely yeelds unto the sutors breath,
And gives the Grave, as easily as the Death,
Whilst they doe give—O how I blush to tell,
A poisond knife, a poison that will dwell
And eate into their fame till earth be gone,
Till poyson have no more to worke upon.
Teach us our right to him, but then to yon
What shall we give? and yet what not leave due?
Then, O kind Heav'n, for this let me be pleader,
May we still sing your praise, who led our Leader,