Classic Poem

The wise, and many-headed bench, that sits
Upon the life, and death of plays, and wits,
(Composed of gamester, captain, knight, knight's man,
Lady, or pucel, that wears mask, or fan,
Velvet, or taffeta cap, ranked in the dark
With the shop's foreman, or some such brave spark,
That may judge for his sixpence) had, before
They saw it half, damned thy whole play, and more;
Their motives were, since it had not to do
With vices, which they looked for, and came to.
I, that am glad, thy innocence was thy guilt,
And wish that all the muses' blood were spilt,
In such a martyrdom; to vex their eyes,
Do crown thy murdered poem: which shall rise
A glorified work to time, when fire,
Or moths shall eat, what all these fools admire.