Lovelace, I must to fame for pardon plead
That I enroll thy name amongst the Dead.
Thy first appearance was meridian light
Which, as it knew no dawn, shall know no Night,
Though under an Eclipse it labour'd long
By interposure of the Rebell-Throng;
Thy boldly-Loyall hand, which durst present
The first Petition of thy native Kent,
Wrought its own Chains; well did th'Usurpers know
They were not free themselves, while thou wert so,
But thy unbounded Spirit did elude
The caution of that guilty Multitude;
Poems There thou thy Love and Loyalty didst sing,
The Glories of thy Mistris, and thy King.
No sooner by this headlesse Rout releast,
But Fortune puts thy vertue to the Test;
During our Civill Wars confin'd to peace,
Expos'd to Forrein Wars, when ours did cease.
The soldier there by thy example fought,
Whose Bounty fed those whom thy Courage taught.
Wasted with these fatigues thou didst return
That thy owne Country might possesse thy urn,
Whose Name, for Arts and Armes alike renown'd,
Was with both Laurells by just Pallas Crown'd.