Classic Poem

Honos alit Artes

Arts all will pine now honours must goe downe
Though one once changed A sheepe hook for a Crowne
Had I as many Crownes as ere were borne
I'de pawne them all for one small barley Corne
Three Letters of the Alphabet the Nine
Recond forth first the twelve and the fifteen
Which Like a powerfull spell should straight untie
The Scepters mistick Knott of Monarchy
And Leave the Cornon Wealth unlac't to ease
Her dropsie and Anarchicall disease
Untill each humor did breath out and then
The State being Cur'd I'de be myselfe again.