Classic Poem

My Lord,

So many glorious titles crowne
Your Noble Stemme, as easily they put down
Great Romes Æmilians, Scipio's, Fabio's, whose
One single Tribe adventured to oppose
Themselves their Cities Wall: and with their bloud,
Preserve Rome from the innumerous Multitude
Of Veians. How oft have our Ancestours
Seen, and extold like Piety of Yours?
How many Victories have the PERCIES got?
What Trophies reard of the subdued SCOT?
How many of your Martiall Linage are
In FAMES BOOK, written Thunderbolts of VVAR,
Who with HEROICK Actions adde new Grace,
To Charlemain's MARTELLVS, PEPINS race,
From whom you are discendants; and we know
How much GRADIVUS and the MVSES owe
To your Progenitours: and dare rehearse
Our better VOVVES and SERVICES in verse,
Be Greatest FABIVS, be great ALGER NON,
And emulate your PERCIES CRESCENT MOON
Shewre down your influence: make our clouded night
By your wise Counsailes, then the day more bright.
Your Honours humble Servant, A, Rivers.