Du Bartas | ||
Sonnet 1.
[Henry, triumphant though thou wert in war]
Henry , triumphant though thou wert in war,Though Fate and Fortitude conspir'd thy glory,
Though thy least Conflicts well deserue a Story;
Though Mars his fame by thine be dark'ned far;
Though from thy Cradle (Infant Conquerer)
Thy martiall proofs haue dimm'd Alcides praise;
And though with Garlands of victorious Bayes
Thy Royall temples richly crowned are:
Yet (matchless Prince) nought hast thou wrought so glorious
As this vn-lookt-for, happy Peace admired;
Whereby thy self art of thy self victorious:
For, while thou might'st the worlds Throne haue aspired,
Thou by this Peace thy war-like hart hast tamed:
What greater conquest could there then be named?
Du Bartas | ||