English poem
On the Lord General Fairfax, at the Siege of Colchester
by John Milton
Fairfax, whose name in arms through Europe rings, Filling each mouth with envy or with praise, And all her jealous monarchs with amaze, And rumors loud that daunt remotest kings, Thy firm unshaken virtue ever brings Victory home, though new rebellions raise Their Hydra heads, and the false North displays Her broken league to imp their serpent wings. O yet a nobler task awaits thy hand (For what can war but endless war still breed?) Till truth and right from violence be freed, And public faith cleared from the shameful brand Of public fraud. In vain doth Valor bleed, While Avarice and Rapine share the land.
More by John Milton
- On the Engraver of his Portrait.1
- On the Gunpowder Plot.
- On the Inventor of Gunpowder.
- On the Late Massacre in Piedmont
- On the new forcers of Conscience under the Long Parliament.
- On the Oxford Carrier
- On the Proposals of Certain Ministers at the Committee for Propagation of the Gospel
- On the Religious Memory of Mrs. Catherine Thomson, my Christian Friend, Deceased Dec. 16, 1646