HE that would aptly write of warlike men, Should make his ink of blood, a sword his pen; At least he must their memories abuse, Who writes with less than Maro's mighty Muse: All, Sir, that I could say of this great theme (The brave Montluc) would lessen his esteem; Whose laurels too much native verdure have To need the praises vulgar chaplets crave: His own bold hand, what it durst write, durst do, Grappled with enemies, and oblivion too; Hew'd his own monument, and grav'd thereon Its deep and durable inscription. To you, Sir, whom the valiant Author owes His second life, and conquest o'er his foes -- Ill-natur'd foes, Time and Detraction, -- What is a stranger's contribution! Who has not such a share of vanity, To dream that one, who with such industry Obliges all the world, can be oblig'd by me. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...IDLENESS by SILAS WEIR MITCHELL BELLS FOR JOHN WHITESIDE'S DAUGHTER by JOHN CROWE RANSOM INVITATION by JOHANNA AMBROSIUS WRITTEN, AT THE REQUEST OF A GENTLEMAN, UNDER A .. PICTURE by RICHARD BARNFIELD PSALM 26. JUDICA ME DEUS by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE THE SURPRISE by GAMALIEL BRADFORD |