Classic Poem

Those painefull Wits, which Natures depth admire ,
And view the causes of unconstant strife,
Doe tremble, lest the Universe expire,
Through lasting Farres, the Enemies of life.
On earthly signes let not such Sages looke,
Nor on the cleere aspect of hopefull Starres,
But learne the Worlds continuance from thy Booke,
Which frames past Natures force eternall Warres;
Wherein the Muses shewing perfect glorie,
Adorne it so with gracefull Harmonie,
That all the acts of this lamented Storie,
Seeme not perform'd for Peoples liberty,
Nor through the awe of an imperious King:
But that thy Verses their deepe wounds might sing.