To Sir Henry Cary

That neither fame nor love might wanting be

To greatness, Cary, I sing that and thee;

Whose house, if it no other honor had,

In only thee might be both great and glad;

Who, to upbraid the sloth of this our time,

Durst valor make almost, but not, a crime;

Which deed I know not, whether were more high,

Or thou more happy, it to justify

Against thy fortune: when no foe, that day,

Could conquer thee but chance, who did betray.

Love thy great loss, which a renown hath won,

To live when Broick not stands, nor Ruhr doth run.

Love honors, which of best example be

When they cost dearest and are done most free;

Though every fortitude deserves applause,

It may be much or little in the cause.

He’s valiant’st that dares fight, and not for pay;

That virtuous is, when the reward’s away.