Classic Poem

As lately lifting up the leaves of worthy writers' works,
Wherein the noble acts and deeds of many hidden lurks,
Our author he hath found the glass of glory shining bright,
Wherein their lives are to be seen which honour did delight,
To be a lantern unto those which daily do desire
Apollo's garland by desert in time for to aspire;
Wherein the froward chances oft of fortune you shall see,
Wherein the cheerful countenance of good successes be,
Wherein true lovers findeth joy with hugy heaps of care,
Wherein, as well as famous facts, ignomious placèd are,
Wherein the just reward of both is manifestly shown,
That virtue from the root of vice might openly be known;
And doubting naught, right courteous all, in your accustom'd wont
And gentle ears, our author he is prest to bide the brunt
Of babblers' tongues, to whom he thinks as frustrate all his toil
As pearls cast to filthy swine which in the mire do moil
Well, what he hath done for your delight, he gave not me in charge:
The actors come, who shall express the same to you at large.