Certain Verses written by a friend in commendation of the Author, RICHARD PEEKE.

SELDOM DO clouds so dim the day,
But SOL will once his beams display;
Though NEPTUNE drives the surging seas,
Sometimes he gives them quiet ease:
     And so few projects speed so ill,
     But somewhat chanceth at our will.

I will not instance in the great,
Placed in Honour's higher seat;
Though virtue in a noble line
Commends it, and the more doth shine.
     Yet this is proved by sword and pen,
     Desert oft dwells in private men. 

My proof is not far hence to seek;
There is at hand brave RICHARD PEEKE,
Whose worth his foes cannot revoke:
Born in the town of Tavistock
     In Devon; where MINERVA sits
     Shaping stout hearts, and pregnant wits. 

This well-resolved and hardy spark
Aiming at fame, as at a mark;
Was not compelled against his will,
In MARS his field to try his skill:
     As voluntary he did go
     To serve his King against his foe.  

If he had pleased, he might have spent
His days at home in safe content;
But nursing valour in his breast
He would adventure with the best:
     Willing to shed his dearest blood,
     To do his Prince and Country good. 

Thus bent, he, adding wings to feet,
Departed with the English fleet.
There was no rub, no stay at all,
The ships sailed with a pleasant gale:
     In setting forth they by their hap,
     Seemed lulled in AMPHITRITE'S lap. 

At length they did arrive at Cales;
Where restless PEEKE against the walls
Made fourscore shot towards the shore,
Making the welkin wide to roar:
     He kept his standing in this strife,
     Setting a straw by loss of life. 

Into a vineyard afterward
He marched, and stood upon his guard;
There he an horseman did dismount,
By outward port of good account:
     But did on him compassion take,
     And spared his life, for pity's sake. 

The next assault uneven he felt,
For with twelve Spaniards he dealt
At once, and held them lusty play;
Until through odds, theirs was the day:
     From ear to ear, they pierced his head,
     And to the town him captive led,  

In prison, they him shut by night,
Laden with chains of grievous weight;
All comfortless, in dungeon deep,
Where stench annoys, and vermin creep:
     He grovelled in this loathsome cell,
     Where ghastly frights and horrors dwell. 

Yet nothing could his courage quail.
Hunger, nor thirst, nor wound, nor gaol;
For being brought before a Don,
And asked "Why England did set on
     A scraping, no a pecking hen?
     He answered "Stain not Englishmen!

"That England is a nation stout,
And till the last will fight it out;
Myself could prove by chivalry,
If for a captive this were free."
     “Why," quoth the Duke, "durst thou to fight
     With any of my men in sight?" 

"Of thousands whom in war you use;
Not one," quoth PEEKE, “do I refuse."
A chosen champion then there came;
Whose heels he tripped, as at a game:
     And from his hand his rapier took,
     Presenting it unto the Duke. 

Then Three at once did him oppose;
They rapiers, he a long staff chose:
The use whereof so well he knows,
He conquered them with nimble blows:
     One that beside him played his round
     he threw as dead unto the ground.  

The noble Duke who this did see,
Commended PEEKE, and set him free.
He gave him gifts and did command
That none should wrong him in their land.
     So well he did him entertain,
     And sent him to the Court of Spain. 

There he was fed with no worse meat
Than which the King himself did eat;
His lodging rich, for he did lie
In furniture of tapestry.
     The King what of him he had heard,
     Did with his treasure well reward. 

Our then Ambassador was there,
PEEKE'S pike and praise he doth declare:
At Spanish Court while he attends,
He thrives for virtue's sake: as friends,
     Foes sent him in triumphant sort,
     Home from a foe and foreign port. 

If thus his very foes him loved,
And deeds against themselves approved;
How should his friends his love embrace
And yield him countenance and grace?
     The praise and worth how can we cloke
     Of manly PEEKE of Tavistock.
                                       FINIS. 
                                       J. D.

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