Classic Poem

Never dranke I of Pegasus his well,
Nor in Parnassus dream't (that I can tell)
Though I write Verse, for I would have men know it,
The Times are good or ill, make me a Poet.
To praise Ulisses wise, as much my care is,
As to condemne Thersites , or vaine Paris .
And as sweete Orpheus to his Harpe did set
High tun'd Ditties, great courages to whet;
So ever bee't my taske, to move great spirits,
And honourable soules, to brave demerits
Mongst whom (Sir Miles ) me thinkes I see you rise
Like Phosphorus , grac'd with such qualities,
That they, as well as your high orders rites,
May justly ranke you with the best of Knights.