Thou left'ft thy more delightful peace,
Thy private life and better ease;
Then down thy fteel and armour took,
Wishing that it still hung upon the hook :
When death had got a large commiffion out,
Throwing the arrows and her sting about;
Then thou (as once the healing ferpent rofe)
Waft lifted up, not for thyfelf but us.

VII.

Thy country wounded was, and fick, before
Thy wars and arms did her restore :
Thou knew'ft where the disease did lie,
And like the cure of sympathy,
The ftrong and certain remedy

Unto the weapon didst apply;

Thou didst not draw the fword, and fo
Away the fcabbard throw,

As if thy country shou'd

Be the inheritance of Mars and blood:
But that, when the great work was fpun,
War in itself fhould be undone :

That peace might land again upon the fhore,
Richer and better than before :

The husbandmen no fteel fhall know,
None but the useful iron of the plow;
That bays might creep on every fpear:
And though our sky was overspread

With a destructive red,

'Twas but till thou our fun didft in full light appear.

VIII.

When Ajax dy'd, the purple blood,

That from his gaping wound had flow'd,
Turn'd into letter, every leaf

Had on it wrote his epitaph:
So from that crimson flood,

Which thou by fate of times wert led

Unwillingly to shed,

Letters and learning rofe, and arts renew'd:
Thou fought'ft, not out of envy, hope, or hate,
But to refine the church and state;

And like the Romans, whate'er thou
In the field of Mars didft mow,
Was, that a holy island hence might grow.
Thy wars, as rivers raised by a shower,
Which welcome clouds do pour,

Though they at first may seem

To carry all away with an enraged stream;
Yet did not happen that they might destroy,
Or the better parts annoy :

But all the filth and mud to scour,
And leave behind another flime,

To give a birth to a more happy power.

IX.

In fields unconquer'd, and fo well

Thou didst in battles and in arms excel; That steely arms themselves might be Worn out in war as foon as thee; Succefs fo close upon thy troops did wait, As if thou firft hadft conquer'd fate;

As

As if uncertain victory

Had been firft o'ercome by thee;

As if her wings were clipt, and could not flee,
Whilft thou didst only serve,

Before thou hadft what firft thou didst deserve,
Others by thee did great things do,
Triumph'dft thyfelf, and mad'ft them triumph too;
Though they above thee did appear,

As yet in a more large and higher sphere :
Thou, the great Sun, gav'ft light to every
Thyself an army wert alone,

And mighty troops contain'd in one.
Thy only fword did guard the land,

ftar:

Like that which, flaming in the angel's hand,

From men God's garden did defend ;

But yet thy fword did more than his,

Not only guarded, but did make this land a paradife.

X.

Thou fought'ft not to be high or great,
Nor for a fceptre or a crown,

Or ermin, purple, or the throne;
But as the veftal heat,

Thy fire was kindled from above alone :
Religion putting on thy shield

Brought thee victorious to the field.

Thy arms, like thofe which ancient heroes wore,
Were given by the God thou didst adore :

And all the words thy armies had,

Were on an heavenly anvil made;

Not

Not intereft, or any weak defire

Of rule or empire, did thy mind infpire :
Thy valour like the holy fire,

Which did before the Perfian armies go,

Liv'd in the camp, and yet was facred too:
Thy mighty fword anticipates,

What was deferv'd by heaven and those blest seats,
And makes the church triumphant here below.

XI.

Though fortune did hang on thy fword,
And did obey thy mighty word;
Though fortune, for thy fide and thee,

Forgot her lov'd inconftancy;
Amidst thy arms and trophies thou

Were valiant and gentle too;

Wound'ft thyself, when thou didst kill thy foe.

Like steel, when it much work has past,

That which was rough does fhine at last, Thy arms by being oftener us'd did smoother grow. Nor did thy battles make thee proud or high, Thy conqueft rais'd the state, not thee: Thou overcam'st thyself in every victory. As when the fun in a directer line Upon a polish'd golden fhield doth fhine, The fhield reflects unto the fun again his light: So when the heavens fmil'd on thee in fight; When thy propitious God had lent

Succefs and victory to thy tent; To heaven again the victory was fent.

larly by reafon of that obligation and zeal with which I am bound to dedicate myfelf to your fervice: for having been a long time the object of your care and indulgence towards the advantage of my studies and fortune, having been moulded as it were by your own hands, and formed under your government, not to entitle you to any thing which my meanness produces, would not only be injustice, but facrilege: fo that if there be any thing here tolerably faid, which deserves pardon, it is yours, Sir, as well as he, who is,

Your most devoted,

and obliged fervant,

THO. SPRAT.