Classic Poem

Let him that will, ascend the tottering Seat
Of Courtly Grandeur, and become as great
As are his mountain Wishes; as for me,
Let sweet Repose, and Rest my portion be;
Give me some mean obscure Recess, a Sphere
Out of the road of Business, or the fear
Of Falling lower, where I sweetly may
My Self, and dear Retirement still enjoy.
Let not my Life, or Name, be known unto
The Grandees of the Times, tost to and fro
By Censures, or Applause; but let my Age
Slide gently by, not overthwart the Stage
Of Publick Interest; unheard, unseen,
And unconcern'd, as if I ne're had been,
And thus while I shall pass my silent days
In shady Privacy, free from the Noise
And busles of the World, then shall I
A good old Innocent Plebeian dy.
Death is a mere Surprize, a very Snare,
To him that makes it his lifes greatest care
To be a publick Pageant, known to All,
But unacquainted with Himself, doth fall.