Classic Poem

While thy brave Mind preserv'd this noble Frame,
Thou stoodst at once secure
From all the Flattery and Obloquy of Fame,
Its rough and gentler Breath were both to thee the same:
Nor this could thee exalt, nor that depress thee lower;
But thou from thy great Soul on both look'dst down
Without the small concernment of a smile or frown.
Heav'n less dreads that it should fir'd be
By the weak flitting Sparks that upwards fly,
Less the bright Goddess of the Night
Fears those loud howlings that revile her Light
Than thou malignant Tongues thy Worth should blast,
Which was too great for Envy's Cloud to overcast.
'Twas thy brave Method to despise Contempt,
And make what was the Fault the Punishment.
What more Assaults could weak Detraction raise,
When thou couldst Saint disgrace,
And turn Reproach to Praise.
So Clouds which would obscure the Sun, oft guilded be,
And Shades are taught to shine as bright as he.
So Diamonds, when envious Night
Would shroud their Splendor, look most bright;
And from its Darkness seem to borrow Light.