On ye Lord Gen. Fairfax at ye Seige of Colchester

Fairfax, whose name in armes 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 unshak'n vertue ever brings Victory home, though new rebellions raise Thir Hydra heads, & the false North displaies Her brok'n league, to impe their serpent wings. O yet a nobler task awaites thy hand; For what can Warrs, but endless Warr still breed, Till Truth, & Right from Violence be freed, And Public Faith cleard from the shamefull brand Of Public Fraud. In vain doth Valour bleed While Avarice, & Rapine share the land.