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To the Right honourable the E. of Manchester, Earl Edward Montigue.
Anagr.
Do not gr'eve me, I rul'd al.
Vers.
Do not grieve me, I rul'd all; at arms,
Where I commanded, kept you all from harms.
Epigr.
THat priviledge which Poëts do presume,
To practice by, I shall not need assume;
These are but fictions, for to figure forth
Such counterfeits, as have no reall worth.
If I had Tullyes Eloquence of tongues,
And all the Nature to the Nine belongs▪
Or rare Apelles knowledge in his Art,
And should imploy them all, for to impart,
Those Noble vertues, valourous and wise,
Heroique actions, which do sympathize,
And correspond with these brave Worthies here,
They could not yet so exquisite appear,
For to demonstrate, nor draw to the life,
Thy high deservings, but engender strife;
And there should stay; and not determine truly,
The rich esteem of thy demerits duly.
The Chronicles of Englands true record,
Shall eternize thy Noble name, brave Lord.
Time shall expire, but that extent shall not
Extenuate, nor thy remembrance rot;
Succeeding ages, while the ayr gives breath,
Shall speak, how thou expos'd thy self to death,
In doing service for this famous Land,
Wherein thou art a Prince, Peer, Earl, and
Which yet is more then each of these, or all;
Next to brave Essex, second Generall.
W. M.