Fair Fidelia, tempt no more,
I may no more thy deity adore
Nor offer to thy shrine,
I serve one more divine
And farr more great than you:
I must goe,
Lest the foe
Gaine the cause and win the day.
Let’s march bravely on,
Charge ym in the van,
Our cause God’s is,
Though their odds is
Ten to one.
Tempt no more, I may not yeeld
Altho’ thine eyes
A kingdome may surprize:
Leave off thy wanton toiles,
The high-borne Prince of Wales
Is mounted in the field,
Where the royall gentry flocke.
Though alone
Nobly borne
Of a ne’re decaying stocke.
Cavaliers, be bold,
Bravely keep your hold,
He that loyters
Is by traytors
Bought and sold.
One kisse more, and then farewell;
Oh no, no more,
I prithee give me o’er, –
Why cloudest thou thy beames?
I see by these extreames
A woman’s heaven or hell.
Pray the King may have his owne,
And the Queen
May be seen
With her babes on England’s throne.
Rally up your men,
One shall vanquish ten,
Victory, we
Come to try thee
Once agen.
(John Adamson)
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Based on Topics: Man Poems, Fairness Poems, Kings & Queens Poems, Success Poems, Woman Poems, Hell Poems, England PoemsBased on Keywords: flocke, kingdome, farr, stocke, toiles, traytors, extreames, high-borne, cloudest