ENGLAND'S FORTRESS: Exemplified In the most Renowned and Victorious, his Excellency, the Lord Fairfax, Commander in Chief of the Parl. Army.  
Humbly presented unto his Excellency by E. C. a lover of Peace.  
Printed in the Year 1648.   

Fairfax England's Fortress.  
To his Excellency the Lord Fairfax, Now Lord General over all our English Land Forces.  
The humble Petition, and unfeigned representation of your poor and most unworthy Petitioner, Edward Calver.  

To whom but you shall England Hector cry?  
Or who but you deserves a praise so high?   

T he special act of our supremer powers,  
H o'th' made you General of our Forts and Towers,  
E ntitling all our English Forces yours.   

L et all be subject then to your command,  
O ur Forces sure are in a faithful hand;  
Right happy sure then, and may rest unmoved,  
D efended by a Champion so approved.   

F estus the Romans. Fairfax we must cry,  
And far more Noble in your praises sly,  
I n whom, or through whom, under God, our Land,  
R evived and cherished, in some hope doth stand:  
F airfax for England then; Saint George no more,  
And garlands for you, Trophies, triumphs store  
X anicall, April's fruitful bloming days,  
Shall not: but merit shall afford you bays,  
And sound your trumpet of perpetual praise.   

H owe evident your dignity is known  
I n each respect to be by due your own,  
S ure to the utmost parts of earth is blown.   

E xcellency? most excellent and just,  
‛ X cell'nt care; hath excellency in trust;  
C an envy then, or hell itself repine?  
E ache star must in its proper motion shine:  
L et envy then, and envies brats be still,  
L et force, if fear will not restrain their will.  
E ache eye is fixed upon you as a star  
N owe in Predomination, as you are,  
C an bad effects from such a cause proceed?  
Y our foes, and ours, Malignant suitors speed?  
No, no, your wisdom doth take better heed.   

INdeed brave Chieftain and our Champion rare,  
Now England's Fortress, and its enemies fear;  
Your valiant acts, and faithfulness in trust  
Already found, so testifies you just,  
That to suspect you, were it but in thought,  
Were bad, unjust, and far more base than aught.   

But out of duty, if I represent,  
Though failingly, my faithful heart's intent;  
Your Excellency will not sure reprove,  
For want of substance, honest signs of love.   

Heavens have advanced you to the Battlement  
Of England's honour, by a joint consent,  
Where, elevated on the wings of praise,  
You sit, the admiration of our days.   

The Vessel of our Commonwealth, the Realm  
Doth in such measure render you the Helm,  
That in this dangerous restless doubtful Ocean,  
It doth full often as you steer find motion.   

Nay more, not only mortals wait your pleasure,  
But God himself hath trusted you with treasure,  
His Servants, Sabbaths, Sacraments, and word,  
And for your aid, with a victorious sword,  
That so they may so far as it doth stand,  
Your Office, be defended by your hand.   

And as God's servants, which are your delight,  
Are praying for you, whiles you for them fight;  
Even so your foes, not foreign, but homebred;  
Those vipers, which so many years have fed  
On their own mother's bowels, those I mean,  
Who, through the venting their Malignant spleen,  
Have, and do yet endeavour to their power,  
The Kingdom which hath bred them, to devour;  
Their eyes are fixed on you with a will  
They could like Bazilisks, by eyeing kill:   

And what they cannot, wanting force acquire,  
They will accomplish, though but in desire;  
Though thus to feed on poison so accursed,  
In fine doth make them either mad or burst.   

Whiles you whose valour never yet took foil,  
Do feed, and live, and prosper with the spoil,  
And the more foes, the more your fame doth fill  
The world with wonder, you prevailing still.   

Again our Kingdom's foes of other Lands,  
Perceiving how unsettled England stands,  
They now are working, plotting, straining wit,  
Who long have waited for a time thus sit;  
How now their Forces might united be,  
To take advantage, whilst we disagree,  
And would attempt it, England to annoy,  
But only that the Hector of our Troy,  
Your matchless valour, through the Nations spread,  
Still strikes their hearts, and their inventions 〈…〉  
As one, through Heavens assisting 〈◊〉, that bides  
Invincible upon the Mountain● 〈…〉, sides.   

Again, our faithful brethren the Scots,  
Who have been constant, spite of many plots:  
Their eyes are fised on you as a star  
Which moderates the Heathens God of war,  
And crownes the earth with plenteousness and peace;  
So, from your beams and influence increase,  
They look all means of love should be protected,  
All lawful leaves, and Covenants respected,  
All Treaties, and conditions that conduce  
To truth, to love, and a confirmed truce  
Between these friends of ours, and us shall be  
Preserved from all violation free.   

Ireland, disastrous Ireland! which hath bean  
A Country fatal to our Country men;  
Me thinks I hear them fight out their grief,  
Or rather see them writing for relief,  
Entirely wishing that s●me winged motion,  
Which neither feels the earth, nor fears the Ocean  
Would be some means to ease their miseries,  
In making you acquainted with their cries.   

They look upon you as their last supply,  
They call upon you with a careful cry,  
They wait upon you under God alone,  
That you would help them, or their hopes are gone.   

But which is more and further to your praise,  
And makes you much admired of our days:  
Our Sun, our Sovereign, with a sweet aspect,  
Did on you as the only Star reflect,  
And having shined upon your Excellence,  
Now seems to wait upon you for events.   

Now if God's hand, which hath our Sovereign's heart  
Within the same, shall so his soul convert,  
To make him fit, and ready to comply,  
To ease his Kingdoms of their misery,  
By stating Peace and Truth with the consent  
Both of your Lordship and our Parliament:  
I know your Lordship would there at rejoice,  
And would not only freely give your voice  
To fetch his highness' home with speed and fame;  
But yield your best assistance in the same.   

And should Heavens his highness thus inspire,  
I never meant the begging his retire,  
〈◊〉 Houses do his grace befit,  
In any thing that I have said or writ.   

But here I leave him in his Maker's hand,  
Entirely p●aying as I have command,  
That God would make him, if it be his will,  
A nursing Father to our Israel;  
That we whom God hath to our King subjected,  
May be in goodness by our King protected.   

As for the vision which concerns his grace  
Foreshown, and therefore needles in this place:  
'tis cer aine that I saw it in my sleep,  
Which wrought upon me took impression deep,  
And yet hath strong reflectings on my mind:  
Yet knowing dreams or visions of such kind  
Are much uncertain, and no subject sure,  
To build discourse on that will trust procure,  
I leave the sequel, and do pass it over  
To time, which only can events discover.   

Mean time I look upon you with consent  
Of heaven's assistance, and our Parliament;  
As the especial instrument or Key,  
Under whose keeping all our treasures lie.   

If you miscarry we are all undone;  
But if you prosper as you have begun,  
We all are made men who have any thought  
To live like good men, and as Christians ought.   

Doubtless the burden under which you stand,  
You bearing up the Pillars of our Land,  
And safely keeping of the Kingdom's Keys,  
Of all its doors where any danger lies,  
Together with the right and Peace of such  
As honour's virtue, which delights you much:  
Must needs be heavy, and a weight of wonder,  
Which none but England's Atlas could stand under.   

How blest is England then may all men say?  
Which though it totters, yet hath such a stay  
As never yet at England's need hath failed,  
Nor ever will, though never so assailed,  
So long as heaven shall with his heart agree  
In saving England from invasion free.   

Ungrateful England that can harbour then  
So many Monsters, in the shapes of men,  
As do endeavour with most deadly hate  
The fall of this upholder of our State.   

Can faithful trust thus falsely be betrayed?  
Can merit be with malice thus repaid?  
Can curs thus bark, and at their Keeper's snatch?  
Can hell its self, such horrid Monsters hatch?   

Your danger doubtless, doth herein exceed;  
But yet again, which doth your safety breed;  
Where hell to hurt doth most its malice bend,  
There heavens to help do mercy most extend;  
And he whom heavens will bless, is not the worse  
For balack's threatening, or for balam's curse.   

This in your person, doth at large appear;  
Heavens blessings on you, like the Sun, shine clear;  
And this indeed, remains no doubt the shield  
Whereby your Lordship, and our Lands upheld.   

Oh! then dull England do not thou neglect,  
Or you the people that have a respect  
To any goodness, but with melting eyes,  
See, and acknowledge where your safety lies,  
And let your praises with your prayers join,  
That these our blessings never may decline.   

And you the blessed blessing of our days,  
Whom God doth honour, and we ought to praise;  
Fear not the faces of your mortal foes  
Whom God immortal helps you to oppose.   

So long as in his quarrel you persist,  
There is no question but you shall be blest,  
For where his cause can no way be upheld  
But by the weapon, whereby blood is spilled;  
The guilt of bloodshed cannot there remain,  
God's glory being greater than the stain;  
The sword thus wounding, being in the hand  
Of him who thereto hath a just command.   

As in men's bodies, as men do relate,  
Are some diseases which are desperate  
Without blood letting, and no hopes of health,  
So in the body of the Commonwealth,  
Are such ill humours and inflamed blood  
In divers Members, as 'tis understood,  
Unless effusion of the same be wrought,  
The whole estate is into danger brought.  
But here now wisdom must with skill be had,  
That what should cure the Kingdom proves not bad,  
The salve should work the remedy, increase  
The sore, and so grow worse than the disease;  
For as where blood is thus corrupted found,  
Too little may be taken; so the wound,  
Through want of judgement, may be made so wide,  
And bleed so much, as on the other side,  
Unto as much distemper may relate,  
By weakening and so hazarding the State.   

But here your wisdom hath at full appeared,  
And to the world your innocency cleared,  
You ever being ready to incline  
To terms of peace, where it was fit to join.   

Which to all good men doth I hope impart  
Sufficient warrant, that you have a heart  
Which is as ready, and as real yet  
For terms of peace, upon conditions sit,  
As ever harboured in a noble breast,  
Or Christian of discretion can request.   

But till corrupted boiling blood of such  
As yet endanger England's safety much,  
Be either purged, or by incision made,  
Be drawn away, that so the sore may fade,  
There is no reason you should stay your hand,  
Who thus are the Physician of the Land.   

Ride on and prosper then brave Hector still,  
And all that hate you curb them at your will,  
And let all virtue's enemies, and those  
That seek your downfall, be subdued foes.   

The game is England's, but the Garland yours:  
The duty mine to help to gather flowers  
To deck your head with the eternal bays  
Of your deserved everlasting praise.   

And thus brave worthy ceasing to intrude,  
Or presume further in a form so rude,  
As building on your goodness I begun,  
So begging your forgiveness, I have done.   

Nor had I once more at your foot appeared,  
But that some scruples might be thereby cleared,  
That so your Lordship may not him suspect,  
Whose pen for virtue ever was direct.   
FINIS.