FOR SOLDIERS - Isabella Whitney Poems


Poems » isabella whitney » for soldiers


Ye buds of Brutus land, courageous youths, now play your parts!
Unto your tackle stand, abide the brunt with valiant hearts!
For news is carried too and fro that we must forth to warfare go.
Men muster now in every place and soldiers are prest forth apace.
Faint not, spend blood, to do your Queen and country good!
Fair words, good pay, will make men cast all care away.

The time of war is come, prepare your corslet, spear and shield!
Methinks I hear the drum strike doleful marches to the field.
Tantara, tantara, the trumpets sound, which makes our hearts with joy abound.
The roaring guns are heard afar, and every thing denounceth war.
Serve God, stand stout! bold courage brings this gear about.
Fear not, forth run! faint heart, fair Lady never won.

Ye curious carpet knights that spend the time in sport and play,
Abroad and see new sights, your country's cause calls you away.
Do not, to make your Ladies game, bring blemish to your worthy name!
Away to field, and win renown, with courage beat your enemies down!
Stout hearts gain praise, when dastards sail in slander's seas.
Hap what hap shall, we sure shall die but once for all.

Alarm! methinks they cry, be packing, mates, be gone with speed!
Our foes are very nigh, shame have that man that shrinks at need!
Unto it boldly, let us stand! God will give right the upper hand.
Our cause is good, we need not doubt, in sign of courage give a shout!
March forth, be strong! good hap will come ere it be long.
Shrink not, fight well! for lusty lads must bear the bell.

All you that will shun evil must dwell in warfare every day.
The world, the flesh and Devil always do seek our souls' decay.
Strive with these foes with all your might, so shall you fight a worthy fight.
That conquest doth deserve most praise where vice do yield to virtue's ways.
Beat down foul sin, a worthy crown then shall ye win.
If we live well, in heaven with Christ our souls shall dwell.