Classic Poem

Sir , I would do you honor in some way
If my poor hand could lay a laurel more
On brows already thick with martial bay
And ivy everygreen, the scholar's store,
And civic oak new-garlanded today
To bind afresh where oft were bound before
Its fronds forensic and are bound for aye.

But you need not a poet's voice to tell
The people who have honored you so long
Why they should love you whom they know so well.
Still less does any here require my song
That he should praise you whom our hearts impel
To hail with homage, heartfelt, deep, and strong,
To which my speech is but a tinkling bell.

Still let me praise you, though more fame accrue
To me than you by praising. Praise is more
For him that gives than him to whom 'tis due.
He that receives it has a bounteous store
And needs it not. Who gives, grows just and true
By speaking justly. You are as before,
But we are better that we honor you.