Classic Poem

Who can consider thy right courses run,
With what thy virtue on the times hath won,
And not thy fortune; who can clearly see
The judgement of the king so shine in thee;
And that thou seek'st reward of thy each act,
Not from the public voice, but private fact;
Who can behold all envy so declined
By constant suffering of thy equal mind;
And can to these be silent, Salisbury,
Without his, thine, and all times' injury?
Cursed be his muse, that could lie dumb, or hid
To so true worth, though thou thyself forbid.