Vane, young in years, but in sage counsel old,
Than whom a better senator ne'er held
The helm of Rome, when gowns, not arms repell'd
The fierce Epirot and the African bold,
Whether to settle peace, or to unfold
The drift of hollow states hard to be spell'd,
Then to advise how war may best, upheld,
Move by her two main nerves, iron and gold,
In all her equipage: besides to know
Both spiritual pow'r and civil, what each means,
What severs each, thou hast learn'd, which few have done:
The bounds of either sword to thee we owe:
Therefore on thy firm hand Religion leans
In peace, and reckons thee her eldest son.
Sonnet XVII. To Sir Henry Vane The Younger
written byJohn Milton
© John Milton