On the Lord General Fairfax at the Siege of Colchester

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Fairfax, whose name in arms through Europe rings
 Filling each mouth with envy, or with praise,
 And all her jealous monarchs with amaze
 And rumours loud, that daunt remotest kings;
Thy firm unshak'n virtue ever brings
 Victory home, though new rebellions raise
 Their hydra heads, and the false north displays
 Her brok'n league, to imp their serpent wings:
O yet a nobler task awaits thy hand;
 For what can war but endless war still breed?
 Till Truth and Right from Violence be freed,
And Public Faith clear'd from the shameful brand
 Of Public Fraud. In vain doth Valour bleed
 While Avarice and Rapine share the land.

© Patrick Kavanagh