TREASON Dread Soveraigne, Treason I discover And can produce ye Traitor too; My bosome works and boileth so, I cannot stop my Crie from running over. I know ye Man (if so his treacherous Sin Blots not that faire ingenuous Name) Who lately to a Parlie came With Thee, & learn'd by yeilding, how to win. He yeilded to thy Mercie, & therby Happily won Himselfe; and Thee; Thou wert His Captive, He was free, And might have been so to Eternitie. But from ye freedome of thy service Hee, Proud foole, and Traytor as he was, Soone after did desire to passe, And reinslave him selfe to Vanitie. O hasten to reduce him, lest he grow A sturdie Rebell: now his Crime Is young & greene, take him in time, And one sweet Conquest more on him bestow. Loe in thy presence heere He is, nor can I him conceale; loe heere he lies Press'd downe with his Iniquities; O look this way: Alas, I am the Man. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO MY DEAR AND LOVING HUSBAND by ANNE BRADSTREET THE DOVE by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR TO MY MERE ENGLISH CENSURER by BEN JONSON ON THE NEW FORCES OF CONSCIENCE UNDER THE LONG PARLIAMENT by JOHN MILTON ON RECEIVING [THE FIRST] NEWS OF THE WAR by ISAAC ROSENBERG SONG OF THE PILGRIMS [SEPTEMBER 16, 1620] by THOMAS COGSWELL UPHAM |