an Heroick Poem.
45
46.
Alike did Oswald for dispatch prepare;
And cries, Since Hubert knew not to subdue,
Glory farewel, that art the Souldiers care,
More lov'd than Woman, less than Woman true!
Alike did Oswald for dispatch prepare;
And cries, Since Hubert knew not to subdue,
Glory farewel, that art the Souldiers care,
More lov'd than Woman, less than Woman true!
47.
And now they strive with all their sudden force
To storm Life's Cittadil, each others Brest;
At which could Heav'ns chief Eye have felt remorse,
It would have wink'd, or hast'ned to the West.
And now they strive with all their sudden force
To storm Life's Cittadil, each others Brest;
At which could Heav'ns chief Eye have felt remorse,
It would have wink'd, or hast'ned to the West.
48.
But sure the Heav'nly Movers little care
Whether our motion here be false or true;
For we proceed, whilst they are regular,
As if we Dice for all our actions threw.
But sure the Heav'nly Movers little care
Whether our motion here be false or true;
For we proceed, whilst they are regular,
As if we Dice for all our actions threw.
49.
We seem surrender'd to indiff'rent Chance,
Even Deaths grave work looks like fantastick play;
That Sword which oft did Oswald's fame advance
In publick war, fails in a private fray.
We seem surrender'd to indiff'rent Chance,
Even Deaths grave work looks like fantastick play;
That Sword which oft did Oswald's fame advance
In publick war, fails in a private fray.
50.
For when (because he ebbes of bloud did feel)
He levell'd all his strength at Gondibert,
It clash'd and broke against the adverse steel,
Which travell'd onward till it reach'd his heart.
For when (because he ebbes of bloud did feel)
He levell'd all his strength at Gondibert,
It clash'd and broke against the adverse steel,
Which travell'd onward till it reach'd his heart.
51.
Now he that like a stedfast statue stood
In many Battels registerd by Fames,
Does fall depriv'd of language as of blood;
Whilst high the Hunters send their Victors name.
Now he that like a stedfast statue stood
In many Battels registerd by Fames,
Does fall depriv'd of language as of blood;
Whilst high the Hunters send their Victors name.
52.
Some shout aloud, and others wind the Horn!
They mix the Cities with the Field's applause;
Which Borgio soon interprets as their scorn,
And will revenge it ere he mourn the cause.
Some shout aloud, and others wind the Horn!
They mix the Cities with the Field's applause;
Which Borgio soon interprets as their scorn,
And will revenge it ere he mourn the cause.
This
