The Candian siege his early valour knew,
Where Turkish blood did his young hands imbrue;
From thence returning, with deserv’d applause, }
Against the Moors his well-flesh’d sword he draws, }
The same the courage, and the same the cause. }
His youth and age, his life and death combine, }
As in some great and regular design, }
All of a piece throughout, and all divine. }
Still nearer heav’n his virtue shone more bright, }
Like rising flames expanding in their height, }