Virtue's triumphant shrine! who dost engage At once three kingdoms in a pilgrimage; Which in ecstatic duty strive to come Out of themselves, as well as from their home; Whilst England grows one camp, and London is Itself the nation, not metropolis, And loyal Kent renews her arts again, Fencing her ways with moving groves of men; Forgive this distant homage, which doth meet Your blest approach on sedentary feet; And though my youth, not patient yet to bear The weight of arms, denies me to appear In steel before you, yet, Great Sir, approve My manly wishes, and more vigorous love; In whom a cold respect were treason to A father's ashes, greater than to you; Whose one ambition 'tis for to be known, By daring loyalty, your Wilmot's son. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HYBRIDS OF WAR: A MORALITY POEM: 1. VIETNAM by KAREN SWENSON SWALLOW FLIGHT by SARA TEASDALE IN THE OLD THEATRE, FIESOLE by THOMAS HARDY RECUERDO by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY EPILOGUE TO THE SATIRES: DIALOGUE 1 by ALEXANDER POPE |