Who Edmonds, reads thy book, and doth not see What the antique soldiers were, the moderns be? Wherein thou show'st, how much the latter are Beholding, to this master of the war; And that, in action, there is nothing new, More, than to vary what our elders knew: Which all, but ignorant captains, will confess: Nor to give Caesar this, makes ours the less. Yet thou, perhaps, shall meet some tongues will grutch, That to the world thou should'st reveal so much, And thence, deprave thee, and thy work. To those Caesar stands up, as from his urn late rose, By thy great help: and doth proclaim by me, They murder him again, that envy thee. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...EYE-SHAPED, MOUTH-SHAPED by MARGARET AHO MYSELF by HARRIET ELLEN (GRANNIS) AREY SONG FOR THE NEWBORN by MARY HUNTER AUSTIN THOMAS GRAY by ARTHUR CHRISTOPHER BENSON THE SECRET OF THE BEES by LOUISA SARAH BEVINGTON PSALM 33. EXULTATE JUSTI by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE DREAMS: ON THE HUNTING GROUND by DANIEL CHAUNCEY BREWER |