(17)
So from that Crimson Flood
Which thou by fate of times wert led
Unwillingly to Shed
Letters and Learning rose, and were renew'd.
Thou fought'st not out of Envy, Hope or Hate,
But to refine the Church and State;
And like the Romans, what er'e thou
In the Field of Mars didst mow,
Was, that a holy Island thence might grow.
Thy Wars, as Rivers raised by a Shour
Which Welcome louds do pour;
Though they at first may seem
To carry all away, with and inraged Stream
Yet did not happen, that they might destroy
Or the better parts annoy;
But all the filth and Mud to scower
And leave behind a Richer Slime,
To give a birth to a more happy power.
(9)
In Field unconquer'd, and so well
Thou didst in Battels, and in Arms excel,
That Steelly Arms themselves might be
Worn out in War as soon as thee.
Success so close upon thy Troops did wait,
As if thou first hadst conquered Fate;
As if uncertain Victory
Had been first overcome by thee;
As if her wings were clipt and could not flee,
Whilst thou didst only serve,
Before thou hadst what first thou didst deserve.
Others by thee did great things do,
Triumph'st thy self and mad'st them Triumph too:
