Classic Poem

Noble Heroick Sir, since you are a Peere,
Insue still like a Vine to grow each yeere.
Choise vines (you know) are first a tender plant,
Having but little roote, and leaves but scant,
On a supporter though whilst it doth leane,
Lively it spreading, and it groweth greene,
And as an harbour in the Summer-season,
Shadows from heate when cooler place is geason.

Now you a choice vine planted, supported by
Eternall aide of the great Deity,
That causeth Sol , our King, with splendid heate
To warme and cherish you, to make you great:
E'ne like onto the choise vine learne to clime,
Rais'd to more honour, you may be in time
Vine like, if you give shadow to the poore,
Into Heavens habitation you may soore.
Let then the choice vine learne never to cease,
Eeking still higher, till you reach to peace.