Classic Poem

Dost therefore swell and pout with pride
And rear thy snout on high,
Because the crowd doth crouch and couch
Whereso thou comest by?
Because the people bonnetless
Before thee still do stand?
Because the life and death doth lie
Of divers in thy hand?
But when that drowsy sleep of thee
Hath every part possessed,
Tell then where is thy pomp and pride,
Thy port, and all the rest?
Then snorting lozel as thou art,
Then liest thou like a block,
Or as a carrion corpse late dead,
And senseless as a stock.
And if it were not that thou wert
Closed up in walls of stone,
And fenced round, thy life would be
In hands of every one.