John Milton’s ambiguous love for Oliver Cromwell – Discovering poetry

‘To Oliver Cromwell’

Cromwell, our chief of men, who through a cloud
Not of war only, but detractions rude,
Guided by faith and matchless fortitude
To peace and truth thy glorious way hast ploughed,
And on the neck of crowned fortune proud
Hast reared God’s trophies and his work pursued
While Darwen streams with blood of Scots imbrued,
And Dunbar field resounds thy praises loud,
And Worcester’s laureate wreath; yet much remains
To conquer still; peace hath her victories
No less than those of war; new foes arise
Threatening to bind our souls in secular chains:
Help us to save free conscience from the paw
Of hireling wolves whose gospel is their maw.

This sonnet was written in 1652 when Milton was part of Oliver Cromwell’s civil service. He was sitting on a committee considering plans to establish a new national church with ministers paid by the state. Milton believed that this would undermine the religious freedoms which had emerged during the civil wars.