Classic Poem

Next Fortitude arose unto this knight,
And by his side sat down with steadfast eyes:
A broken column 'twixt her arms was pight:
She could not weep nor pour out yearnful cries.
From Fortitude such base affects nill rise;
Brass-renting goddess, she cannot lament:
Yet thus her plaints with breathing sighs were spent.

Within the Maiden's Court, place of all places,
I did advance a man of high desert,
Whom nature had made proud with all her graces,
Inserting courage in his noble heart:
No peril's dread could ever make him start;
But, like to Scaevola, for country's good
He did not value for to spend his blood.

His looks were stern, though in a life of peace:
Though not in wars, yet war hung in his brows:
His honor did by martial thoughts increase:
To martial men living this knight allows,
And by his sword he solemnly avows.
Though not in war, yet if that war were here,
As warriors do, to value honor dear.

Captains he kept and foster'd them with fee;
Soldiers were servants to this martial knight;
Men might his stable full of coursers see,
Trotters whose manag'd looks would some affright;
His armoury was rich and warlike dight;
And he himself, if any need had crav'd,
Would as stout Hector have himself behav'd.

I lost a friend whenas as I lost his life:
Thus plained Fortitude, and frown'd withal.
" " Curst by Atropos, and curst her knife"
That made the captain of my guard to fall,
Whose virtues did his honours high install. "
At this she storm'd, and wrung out sighs so sore,
That what for grief her tongue could speak no more.