The Works of Abraham Cowley/Volume 2/Honour
For works with similar titles, see Honour.
HONOUR.
She loves, and she confesses too;There 's then, at last, no more to do:The happy work 's entirely done;Enter the town which thou hast won;The fruits of conquest now begin;Iö triumph! Enter in.
What 's this, ye Gods! what can it be?Remains there still an enemy?Bold Honour stands up in the gate,And would yet capitulate;Have I o'ercome all real foes,And shall this phantom me oppose?
Noisy nothing! stalking shade!By what witchcraft wert thou made?Empty cause of solid harms!But I shall find out counter-charms, Thy airy devilship to removeFrom this circle here of love.
Sure I shall rid myself of theeBy the night's obscurity,And obscurer secrecy!Unlike to every other sprite,Thou attempt'st not men t' affright,Nor appear'st but in the light.