Go, quit them all, and take along with thee
Thy true friend's wishes, Colby, which shall be
That thine be just and honest, that thy deeds
Not wound thy conscience when thy body bleeds;
That thou dost all things more for truth than glory,
And never but for doing wrong be sorry;
That by commanding first thyself thou mak'st
Thy person fit for any charge thou tak'st;
That fortune never make thee to complain,
But what she gives thou dare give her again;
That whatsoever face thy fate puts on
Thou shrink nor start not, but be always one;
That thou think nothing great but what is good,
And from that thought strive to be understood.
So, 'live or dead, thou wilt preserve a fame
Still precious with the odour of thy name;
And last, blaspheme not; we did never hear
Man thought the valianter 'cause he durst swear.
These take, and now go seek thy peace in war:
Who falls for love of God shall rise a star.
Ben was no milk-and-water poet either. In his youth he fought with our armies in Flanders; he was not without experience of war, and you may take it he was addressing, in Master Colby, the type of Englishman who shattered the pride of the Spanish Armada, who wrought on the same field as Sidney—men who went into battle not as ravening brutes lusting to befoul any victory they won by a savage slaughter
