Page:The works of Anne Bradstreet in prose and verse.djvu/441

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In Honour of Du Bart as. 355

More fenflefs then the ftones to Amphions Lute,

Mine e3^es are fightlels, and my tongue is mute,

My full aftonifh'd heart doth pant to break,

Through grief it wants a faculty to fpeak:

Volleyes of praifes could I eccho then,

Had I an Angels voice, or Bartas pen:

But wifhes can't accomplifh my delire,

Pardon if I adore, when I admire.

O France thou did'll: in him more glory gain

Then in thy Martel., Pipi7i, Charleinain,

Then in St. Lewes, or thy laft Heniy Great,

Who tam'd his foes in warrs, in bloud and fweat.

Thy fame is fpread as far, I dare be bold.

In all the Zones, the temperate, hot and cold.

Their Trophies were but heaps of wounded flain.

Thine, the quinteffence of an heroick brain.

The oaken Garland ought to deck their brows,

Immortal Bayes to thee all men allows.

Who in thy tryumphs never won by wrongs,

Lead'fl millions chaind by e3'es, by ears, b}^ tongues

Oft have I wondred at the hand of heaven,

In giving one what would have ferved feven.

If e're this golden gift was fhowr'd on any.

Thy double portion would have ferved many.

Unto each man his riches is allign'd [209]

Of Name, of State, of Body and of Mind:

Thou hadft thy part of all, but of the laft,

O pregnant brain, O comprehenlion vaft:

f> foes, in bloud, in skarres.

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