Classic Poem

How many ways deceit can find;
T'impole, alas! on human kind.

In antique dress, with length of beard,
Faustus, the conjurer, appear'd;
Austere his look; a taper wand
Most awful dignisy'd his hand:
With globes and telescopes around
His room proclaim'd his skill profound;
Loud was his fame, both far and near,
And all to Faustus would repair.
For wishing nymphs he soon would find
A husband wealthy, handsome, kind;
And for th' ambitious he would fix
A coronet, a coach and fix.
He'd give the avaritious store,
And food and raiment to the poor.
In short, whatever their degree,
He'd suit their wishes to a T.
Pleas'd, they reported never sure
A man so wife was known before.

Invited by his general fame
Among the rest, Lorenzo , came;
And having heard his babbling stuff,
Accosted Faustus something rough.
" Thou wretch, what punishment is due
To one so very vile as you;
Who with most scandalous pretence
Cheat people of their gold and sense;
Canst thou by human art explain
The links in Providence's chain?
Canst thou declare the Almighty's will,
And tell our fortune good or ill?
The pillory or bridewell should
Declare your wisdom to the crowd. "
" Your warmth (quoth Faustus) 'tis confest,
Appears at present somewhat just;
Consider calmly; you'll agree
The fault's in them, and not in me.
Of all the fools that here attend,
To gain a Fortune is their end.
And were I mad enough to deal
The Blanks from out of Fortune's wheel,
They'd say my skill was all a sham,
And I as great a fool as them. "