TWAS fairly done, Mortalitie, To give a warning peece before the fight. And heer my Thanks I render thee For that Alarm thou gavest me last night. And yet thou cunning art, who by Weaknes thy strength on me dost try. 2 By this light skirmish I am taught What to expect when thou dost charge me home. So kindely that distemper wrought Upon my heart, that she hath reaped from My bodies sicknes, such a crop Of health, as cheers her into hope. 3 Into fair hope that I shall dare To meet thy main battalia, & quit The vain & most ignoble fear Of Deaths assault; whom I desire to set Upon me in the open feild, That so I may with honor yeild. 4 For yeild I must, & will; nor need Death any subtile ambush lay for me: I have no plot to run, & lead That fate a dance which cannot shunned be. Yet by Surrender, might I choose, Not by Surprize, my Life I'd loose. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HE WISHES FOR THE CLOTHS OF HEAVEN by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS THE ELDER WOMAN'S SONG: 4, FR. KING LEAR'S WIFE by GORDON BOTTOMLEY GARIBALDI IN PIEDMONT by PHOEBE CARY BIT BY BITTER by EDWARD RALPH CHEYNEY |