Fairfax, whose Name in Arms through Europe rings, <br /> And fills all Mouths with Envy or with Praise, <br /> And all her Jealous Monarchs with Amaze. <br /> And Rumours loud which daunt remotest Kings, <br />Thy firm unshaken Valour ever brings <br /> Victory home, while new Rebellions raise <br /> Their Hydra-heads, and the false North displays <br /> Her broken League to Imp her Serpent Wings: <br />O yet! a Nobler task awaits thy Hand, <br /> For what can War, but Acts of War still breed <br /> Till injur'd Truth from Violence be freed; <br />And publick Faith be rescu'd from the Brand <br /> Of publick Fraud; in vain doth Valour bleed, <br /> While Avarice and Rapine shares the Land.<br /><br />John Milton<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/to-my-lord-fairfax/
