Classic Poem

To mount aboue Ingratitude (base crime)
With double lines of single-twisted Rime ,
I will (though needlesse) blaze the Sun -bright praise
Of Oxford , where I spend some gaining daies:
Who entertaines me with that kinde regard,
That my best words , her worst deedes should reward:
For like a Lady full of roialtie,
Shee giues me Crownes for my Charactery :
Her Pupils crowne me for directing them ,
Where like a King I liue, without a Realme ;
They praise my precepts , & my Lessons learne,
So doth the worse the better wel governe.
But Oxford , ├┤ I praise thy situation
Passing Pernassus, Muses' habitation!
Thy Bough-deckt-dainty Walkes , with Brooks beset
Fretty, like Christall Knots, in mould of Iet
Thy sable Soile's like Guian's golden Ore ,
And gold it yeelds manur'd; no mould can more
The pleasant Plot where thou hast footing found,
For all it yeelds, is yelke of English ground.
Thy stately Colledges like Princes' courtes,
Whose gold-embossed high-embattl'd Ports
With all the glorious workmanshippe within,
Make Strangers deeme they haue in Heaven bin,
When out they come from those celestiall places ,
Amazing them with glorie and with graces .
But, in a word to say how I like thee,
For place , for grace , and for sweete companee ,
Oxford is Heav'n on Earth there be.