The brave Aemilius, his great charge laid down (The force of Rome, and fate of Macedon), In his lost sons did feel the cruel stroke Of changing fortune, and thus highly spoke 20 Before Rome's people: 'We did oft implore, That if the heavens had any bad in store For your Aemilius, they would pour that ill On his own house, and let you flourish still.' You on the barren seas, my lord, have spent Whole springs and summers to the public lent; Suspended all the pleasures of your life, And shorten'd the short joy of such a wife; For which your country's more obligèd than 29 For many lives of old less happy men. You, that have sacrificed so great a part Of youth, and private bliss, ought to impart Your sorrow too, and give your friends a right As well in your affliction as delight. Then with Aemilian courage bear this cross, Since public persons only public loss Ought to affect. And though her form and youth, Her application to your will, and truth, That noble sweetness, and that humble state (All snatch'd away by such a hasty fate!) 40 Might give excuse to any common breast, With the huge weight of so just grief oppress'd; Yet let no portion of your life be stain'd With passion, but your character maintain'd To the last act. It is enough her stone May honour'd be with superscription Of the sole lady who had power to move The great Northumberland to grieve, and love. [1] 'His lady': the Lady Anne Cecil, daughter of the Earl of Salisbury. See a previous note. TO MY LORD ADMIRAL, OF HIS LATE SICKNESS AND RECOVERY.