To Sir John Berkley, Governor Of Exeter.

Stand forth, brave man, since fate has made thee here     The Hector over aged Exeter,     Who for a long, sad time has weeping stood     Like a poor lady lost in widowhood,     But fears not now to see her safety sold,     As other towns and cities were, for gold     By those ignoble births which shame the stem     That gave progermination unto them:     Whose restless ghosts shall hear their children sing,     "Our sires betrayed their country and their king".     True, if this city seven times rounded was     With rock, and seven times circumflank'd with brass,     Yet if thou wert not, Berkley, loyal proof,     The senators, down tumbling with the roof,     Would into prais'd, but pitied, ruins fall,     Leaving no show where stood the capitol.     But thou art just and itchless, and dost please     Thy Genius with two strengthening buttresses,     Faith and affection, which will never slip     To weaken this thy great dictatorship.