XI: Some Verses: To His Worthy Friend Master Walter Quin

I must commend the clearenesse of thy mind,
Which (stil ingenuous) bent true worth to raise,
Though in the graue an obiect fit will find,
Not flattring liuing Men with question'd praise.
Braue Bernards valour noble Naples sounds:
Which scarce his Country venters to proclaime,
But sith his sword preuail'd in forraine bounds,
Their pennes should pay a tribute to his fame.
Lest Natiues vaunt, let Strangers then deale thus:
For I confesse they prooue too oft ingrate.
What deeds have smother'd bin, or rob'd from vs
By Frenchmen first, by Flemmings now of late?
Where, had all met with such a Muse as thine,
Their lightning glory through each Age might shine.