 | A Divine Centvrie of Spirituall Sonnets
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Sonnet. XXXIII.
[Thrice puissant generall of true Christian hoast]
Thrice
puissant generall of true Christian hoast
(Whose voyce it selfe is dreadfull thundercracke,
Whose wrath doth nether fire nor lightning lacke,
Whose stormie frowne makes tremble euerie coast:
Chasing thy fearefull foes from post to post,
Whose hands force can all the worlds forces sacke,
Who turnes his foemens colours into blacke,
Whose murthering thunderboults for arrowes bee,
Whose sworde victorious, Trenchant, double edg'd,
His holy Scripture is, whose foes conuert,
The pointe to their owne brest, and haue alledg'd
Vaine arguments thy deare Saints to subuert)
As thou deare God art iudge, so giue thy doome
(In iustice) to subuert ambitious Rome.
| A Divine Centvrie of Spirituall Sonnets
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