Classic Poem

Honest and poor, faithful in word and thought,
What hast thou, Fabian , to the city brought?
Thou neither the buffoon nor pimp can'st play,
Or with thy whispers innocence betray:
Thou'rt a man of learning, prudent, just,
A man of courage, firm, and fit for trust:
Thou canst not with vain promises deceive,
Whate'er thou say'st we safely may believe.
Thou art a stranger to the courtier 's sin,
And scorn'st to draw a poor dependant in;
Cringe for his service when you want his aid,
Nor mind, when serv'd , a single word you've said.
He waits , he weeps, intreats , no favour's shewn,
And by long vain attendance is undone.
In modern schemes to rise thou wilt not join,
Corruption enters not in hearts like thine ;
Thy country 's cause will form thy free debate,
Nor wilt thou ever be a tool of state.
Thou'll have no chance for sweet contentment here,
Here few of thy great sentiments appear,
Fabian , go back , and keep you where you were.
If thou lov'd'st drinking, gaming, balls, and routs ,
To praise the inns and boldly lash the outs :
If thou couldst come into corruption's snare,
Nor thought thy country's welfare worth thy care:
If thou couldst frible-life with vain coquet ,
Part with thy sense for empty flashy wit:
If thou couldst tempt thy friend's too wanton wife,
And rob him of the comfort of his life:
By wicked steps like these thou'dst make thy way,
And in the city with eclat might stay.
But oh! thy heart disadins an act that's foul,
Thy virtue pomp nor title can controul,
Thy grandeur is nobility of soul .
In paths of honour, Fabian, persevere,
Fly from infectious vice which rages here,
So will all honest men thy name revere.