Page:Gondibert, an heroick poem - William Davenant (1651).djvu/142

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GONDIBERT,
32.
Till that black day on which the Hunns may boast
Their own defeat, and we our conquest hide;
For though we gain'd, and they the battel lost,
Yet then thy brave victorious Father dy'd.

33.
And I am stay'd unwillingly behind;
Not caught with wealth, Life's most intangling snare;
Though both my Masters were in giving kind,
As joyfull Victors after Battel are.

34.
Whilst thus this aged Leader does express
His and their Story whom his bounty feeds,
His hands the Duke's worst order'd wounds undress
And gently bind; then strait he thus proceeds.

35.
West from those Hills till you Cremona reach,
With an unmingled right I gather rent;
By their great Gift who did such precepts teach
In giving, as their wealth is ne'r misspent.

36.
For as their plenteous pity fills my thought,
So their example was not read in vain;
A Thousand, who for them in battel fought,
And now distress'd with Maims, I entertain:

37.
Not giving like to those, whose gifts, though scant,
Pain them, as if they gave with gowty hand;
Such vex themselves, and ease not others want;
But we alike enjoy, a like command.

38.
Most spaciously we dwell, where we possess
All sinless pleasures Nature did ordain;
And who that all may have, yet will have less,
Wiser than Nature, thinks her kindness vain.

A sad