Classic Poem

Why should a woman, who is fraile and weak,
Into the praises of your vertues break,
Londons great Prelate, whom true vertues lore
Lively proclaims, thee rich within, not poore;
Insuing which true riches, Charles our King
A meet Bird thinks thee in his Church to sing;
Marking the just accounts 'twixt God and thee,

Intrusteth thee with his high Treasury:
Very well maist thou counsell good be giving;
Xenophan like, Philosopher-like living;
O! I confesse, the Muses lend a light,
( Ne, you vail my lux tho: to do you right,)
Ever to those who in their laws delight.