Classic Poem

Like seal'd Doves, Proud Men from their Blindness too,
Higher and higher still aspire to go,
Till like them, they by their high-flying find,
They grow but the more giddy, weak, and blind;
So, to get out of others Sights more soon,
But as the sooner made out of their own,
And in aspiring, they grow higher-flown;
By their Rise, swifter to their Downfal go,
To fall, as their Aims are more high, more low;
From their Desires enlarg'd still, by their Store,
Become less satisfy'd, for having more;
And from their Blindness, have their Restlesness,
In Quest of Ease, their Labours, Pains increase,
Till them, their vain Hopes of true Joys bereave,
For Casual Things out of their reach, they crave,
And Goods in Prospect, lose all those they have;
Their Thoughts on Things which ne'r may come employ,
Till those more in their Pow'r, they less enjoy,
Their Joys so their Enjoyment but destroy;
Till in their full Possession and Excess,
As they grow more, their Satisfaction's less;
Till their Fruition, like the Lover's too,
Makes their Desire their Disappointment grow,
Their Pleasure, their Dissatisfaction so;
Their Wealth of less Use to them, for their Store,
Who but like Æsop 's Dog, for craving more,
Lose both the Taste and Use of what they had before;
The Shadow for the Substance fondly chuse,
For the fantastic Good, the real lose;
To make their own Ambition and Self-Love,
Like Bawds, of Aids to their Desires, to prove
Impediments and Checks to both; but he,
Who still wou'd with Success ambitious be,
Himself above Mankind wou'd sooner see;
Must with his wild, mad Passions not comply,
But them (which is most hard to do) deny,
His Pow'r, Sense, Honour, best to justifie;
Since, as the Difficulties of the Deed
Are more, more Honour is it to succeed;
That Man may prove his Sense, Pow'r, Glory, more,
But as he has the Best, and Noblest Pow'r;
Pow'r o'er himself, which for him must obtain,
More Honour, as it is more hard to gain,
Which is more hard, as he's more Rich, Great, Vain;
Since, but as a Man's Wealth, Pride, Pow'r, are more,
His Passions grow more, so less in his Pow'r;
But that Man, all his Aims at once, has gain'd,
Who gets himself under his own Command,
Who can resist Desire, may Fear withstand;
Most Shameful and Tyrannic Bondage, which
Does most Enslave the most Proud, Pow'rful, Rich,
To make but their own Pow'r, and Wealth, the more
Their Danger, Pain, than others Wealth, or Pow'r;
Since, as their Wealth, or Pow'r grow greater, so
Will, both their Av'rice, Pride, Injustice grow,
So more their Enemies, and Rivals too;
Whilst that their Wealth's Increase, augments their Cares,
As likewise does, their Pow'rs Increase their Fears;
Since those we Fear or Envy, we must Hate,
Who are more Proud, Fierce, as more Fortunate,
Then Pow'r, or Wealth, make not the Happy State;
Which, but our Pride, Fear, Avarice, augment,
To give us, as more Fame, Wealth, less Content,
To make Wealth, Honour, our Disparagement;
By Vain Desires, which with them must increase,
To make our Satisfaction but the less;
Since, all our Wealth, or Pow'r, are less, or more,
But as they less, or more, are in our Pow'r;
Not, as that we possess 'em, more, or less,
But as that us, they more or less possess;
Since nothing, to be ours sure, can we say,
But what we can give our own selves, or may,
From our selves, when we please too, take away;
For we grow those things Things, and they not ours,
Which have our Inclinations in their Pow'rs;
We Slaves, not Masters, of all those Things are,
Which keep us, to keep them, in Pain, or Fear;
So Prince's Guards have them in Custody,
On whom depends all their Security;
Thus become Pris'ners to their Vassals, who,
That they dare not to stay without 'em, know,
At Home, or Out, without 'em, dare not go;
Then, there's no Man can many Vassals have,
But he must be, to more, a Truckling Slave;
Mens Honours, their Ambitious Aims Increase,
Their Pow'r Abroad, gains them at Home less Peace,
For having more Wealth, are but less at Ease;
Have Bodies, Minds, but less at Rest, as more
At Ease, in Wealth, and Great in Envy'd Pow'r;
Whose Great Wealth, most prevents their Use of it,
Which they but less, as they have more, can quit;
They then are under the most Shameful Want,
Who their own, to their own Use, cannot grant;
And theirs is the most beggarly, mean Pride,
Which, with more Pow'r, Fame, is less satisfy'd;
Man's Wealth, Pow'r, Honours, grow more his Disgrace,
As more by them, his Av'rice, Pride, increase;
Till, to his Shame, his sought-for Honours turn,
Augmenting more his Pride, and others Scorn;
And his Incumb'ring, Useless Plenty too,
Of Life's Support, does its Destruction grow,
As a great Weight of Fruit, does break the Bough;
Which else, had higher risen, lasted more,
Had it not been oppress'd with its own Store;
So, betwixt Great and Small, the Rich or Poor,
There's small Odds, since there's not a Pin to chuse,
'Twixt having no Wealth, or none for our Use;
The Case 'twixt Prodigal and Miser so,
For much the same, with Reason, ought to go;
Whom, both alike, we Miserable call,
This for his Spending, that, for Saving all;
Only the Miser's wilful Beggary,
(Since but his Fault) is more his Infamy;
Whilst the Just Poor Man's Well-born Poverty,
(For which, not he, but his Ill Fate's to Blame)
Is sure, his Honour, rather than his Shame,
Bearing which well, he gets, not loses Fame;
Since no Man's Fate, whether 'tis Good or Bad,
To be his Praise, or Shame, can e'er be said,
As, by his Fate, but by his Fault, 'tis made;
Which, to his Shame, or Credit, sure must turn,
Not as him, more or less, Men for it scorn,
But as by him, 'tis worse, or better born;
'Tis not he who has most, but wants the least,
Who shou'd be judg'd the Happy'st Man, or Best;
The Poor want less, who with less are supply'd,
The Rich want most, with most least satisfy'd,
Whose Satisfactions they themselves prevent,
Since their Increase does their Desires augment,
By yielding them, as more, but less Content;
So the Poor Miser's thristless Avarice,
His own Desires, by their own selves, denies;
Augments his Want, but by his Wealth's Increase,
Which, but as more, makes him less at his Ease;
And him does less suffice, by growing more,
Thus he's more Sham'd and Beggar'd by his Store,
Since Man, from what he craves, not wants, is Poor;
Whilst him, most Rich and Happy shou'd we call,
Who, for his Wants, within himself has all;
Since his is sure the best Establishment,
Who, from himself, not Chance, has his Content,
Which no Fate (if he pleases) can prevent;
Whilst Wealth, which does but our Desires increase,
Makes Man, for having more, less at his Ease,
His Wants, Cares, Fears more, less his Happiness;
Ambition is base Covetousness, so
Of Honours, by which Great Men lesser grow,
Whose Height makes them, in Mens Esteem, more low;
Whose Vanity grows greater, with their Fame,
Till their Affected Honour turns their Shame,
Their Ostentation but their Virtue's Blame;
And their Necessity of Praise they show,
Makes their Ambition their Dishonour grow;
Makes their Pursuit of Fame, so their Disgrace,
Whilst them their Pride does, by their Rise, debase;
Whose Greatness grows uneasie Monstrousness,
For which, in Wise Men's Thoughts, they seem but less;
For it, are made the Public Sport, or Show,
To have, for Followers, the Rabble too;
Who, for their often seeing them, but turn
Their Admiration at 'em, into Scorn;
To make their Greatness, for which they'd be priz'd;
But more, to make them yet the more despis'd;
Since each most oft in Sense and Spirit is,
But less, as he the greater is in Size;
Like all great Beasts, but for their Greatness then,
Less useful are; the Monsters too of Men,
Uneasie to themselves, and others grow,
Of Common Aids, so Public Burthens too;
With Minds more low, as they more high appear,
But true great High Minds, like each Fix'd great Star,
Seem less, as they the greater, higher are;
Whilst flashy vain Men are like Meteors, which
Are nearest falling, at their highest Pitch;
Less, for their Splendor dure, are much more low,
More Great they seem, and more they make a Show.