Classic Poem

I laugh at the insipid dandy-shapes,
Gloating about me, with their he-goat faces;
Laugh at the empty vulpine herd, which traces
My steps with stealthy leers, and sniffs and gapes;
Laugh at the highly-learned race of apes,
Who vaunt themselves as judges proud of merit;
Laugh at the miscreants of feeble spirit,
Whose venomed shafts no work of mine escapes—
Still, though kind Fortune's gifts in ruination
By Fate's stern hands before mine eyes are strown,
And at my feet are as in mockery flung;
Ev'n though my heart within my breast is wrung,
Wrung even to breaking—shattered and o'erthrown—
A hearty ringing laugh 's some consolation.