On The Proposalls Of Certaine Ministers At The Committee For <br />Propagation Of The Gospell <br /> <br /> <br />Cromwell, our cheif of men, who through a cloud <br />Not of warr onely, but detractions rude, <br />Guided by faith & matchless Fortitude <br />To peace & truth thy glorious way hast plough'd, <br />And on the neck of crowned Fortune proud <br />Hast reard Gods Trophies, & his work pursu'd, <br />While Darwen stream with blood of Scotts imbru'd, <br />And Dunbarr field resounds thy praises loud, <br />And Worsters laureat wreath; yet much remaines <br />To conquer still; peace hath her victories <br />No less renownd then warr, new foes aries <br />Threatning to bind our soules with secular chaines: <br />Helpe us to save free Conscience from the paw <br />Of hireling wolves whose Gospell is their maw.<br /><br />John Milton<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/to-the-lord-generall-cromwell-may-1652/