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Eleg. 7.a| |
Tell I haue peace wt thee, warr other Men; [f. 17v] |
And when I haue peace, can I leaue thee then? |
All other warrs are scrupulous; Only thou |
O fayr free Citty, maist thy selfe allow |
To any one: In Flanders, who tan tell |
Whether ye Maister pres or men rebell? |
Only we know, that wch all Ideots say |
They beare most blows wch come to part ye fray. |
France in her Lunatique giddines did hate |
Euer or men, yea and or God of late. |
Yet She relyes vpon or Angels well |
Wch nere returne; No more then they wch fell. |
Sick Ireland is wt a strange warr possest |
Like to an Ague; Now raging, now at rest; |
Wch time will cure: Yet it must do her good |
If she weare purg'd, and her head vayne let blood. |
And Midas ioyes or Spanish iourneys giue, |
We touch all gold, but find no food to liue. |
And I should be in yt hott parching clime |
To dust and ashes turnd before my time. |
To mew me in a Ship, is to enthrall |
Me in a prison, yt weare like to fall. |
Or in a Cloyster; save yt ther men dwell |
In a calme heauen, here in a swaggering hell. |
Long Voyages are long consumptions |
And Ships are carts for executions. |
Yea they are Deaths; ist not all one to fly |
Into an other World, as t'is to dy? |
Here let me warr; in these armes let me ly |
Here let me parle, batter, bleede, & dy. |
Thy armes imprison me, and myne armes thee, |
Thy hart thy ransome is, take myne for mee. |
Other men war that they ther rest may gayne |
But we will rest yt we may fight agayne. |
Those warrs the'ignorant, these th'experienc'd love |
There we are allwayes vnder, here above. |
There Engines farr of breed a iust trew feare, |
Neere thrusts, pikes, stabs, yea bullets hurt not here. |
There-lyes are wrongs; here safe vprightly ly; |
There men kill men, we'will make one by & by. |