Were it your appetite of glory, (which In noblest times, did bravest soules bewitch To fall in love with danger,) that now drawes You to the fate of warre; it claimes applause: And every worthy hand would plucke a bough From the best spreading bay, to shade your brow. Since you unforc'd part from your Ladies bed Warme with the purest love, to lay your head Perhaps on some rude turfe, and sadly feele The nights cold dampes wrapt in a sheete of steele. You leave your well grown woods; and meadows which Our _Severne_ doth with fruitfull streames enrich. Your woods where we see such large heards of Deere Your meades whereon such goodly flockes appeare. You leave your Castle, safe both for defence And sweetely wanton with magnificence With all the cost and cunning beautified That addes to state, where nothing wants but pride. These charmes might have bin pow'rful to have staid Great mindes resolv'd for action, and betraid You to a glorious ease: since to the warre Men by desire of prey invited are, Whom either sinne or want makes desperate, Or else disdaine of their owne narrow fate. But you, nor hope of fame or a release Of the most sober government in peace, Did to the hazard of the armie bring Onely a pure devotion to the King In whose just cause whoever fights, must be Triumphant: since even death is victory. And what is life, that we to wither it To a weake wrinckled age, should torture wit To finde out Natures secrets; what doth length Of time deserve, if we want heate and strength? When a brave quarrell doth to arms provoke Why should we feare to venter this thin smoke This emptie shadow, life? this which the wise As the fooles Idoll, soberly despise? Why should we not throw willingly away A game we cannot save, now that we may Gaine honour by the gift? since haply when We onely shall be statue of men And our owne monuments, Peace will deny Our wretched age so brave a cause to dye. But these are thoughts! And action tis doth give A soule to courage, and make vertue live: Which doth not dwell upon the valiant tongue Of bold Philosophie, but in the strong Undaunted spirit, which encounters those Sad dangers, we to fancie scarce propose. Yet tis the true and highest fortitude To keepe our inward enemies subdued: Not to permit our passions over sway Our actions, not our wanton flesh betray The soules chaste Empire: for however we To th' outward shew may gaine a victory And proudly triumph: if to conquour sinne We combate not, we are at warre within. _Vias tuas Domine demonstra mihi._ Where have I wandred? In what way Horrid as night Increast by stormes did I delight? Though my sad soule did often say Twas death and madnesse so to stray.