Classic Poem

Tentanda via est, &c.

What shall I do to be for ever known,
And make the Age to come my own?
I shall like Beasts or Common People dy,
Unless you write my Elegy ;
Whilst others Great , by being Born are grown,
Their Mothers Labour , not their own.
In this Scale Gold , in th'other Fame does ly,
The weight of that , mounts this so high .
These men are Fortunes Jewels , moulded bright;
Brought forth with their own fire and light.
If I, her vulgar stone for either look;
Out of my self it must be strook .
Yet I must on; what sounds is't strikes mine ear?
Sure I Fames Trumpet hear.
It sounds like the last Trumpet : for it can
Raise up the bur'ied Man .
Unpast Alpes stop me, but I'll cut through all,
And march, the Muses Hannibal .
Hence all the flattering vanities that lay
Nets of Roses in the way.
Hence the desire of Honors , or Estate ;
And all, that is not above Fate ,
Hence Love himself, that Tyrant of my days,
Which intercepts my coming praise.
Come my best Friends , my Books , and lead me on;
'Tis time that I were gon.
Welcome, great Stagirite , and teach me now
All I was born to know.
Thy Scholars vict'ries thou dost far out-do;
He conquer'd th' Earth , the whole World you .
Welcome learn'd Cicero , whose blest Tongue and Wit
Preserves Romes greatness yet .
Thou art the first of Ora'tors ; only he
Who best can praise Thee, next must be.
Welcome the Mantu'an Swan, Virgil the Wise ,
Whose verse walks highest , but not flies.
Who brought green Poesie to her perfect Age;
And made that Art which was a Rage .
Tell me, ye mighty Three , what shall I do
To be like one of you.
But you have climb'd the Mountains top, there sit
On the calm flour'ishing head of it,
And whilst with wearied steps we upward go,
See Us , and Clouds below.