Classic Poem

Thou! the best College art, to make us know,
Ourselves, and Mankind, which few Free-Schools do;
The prating Free-Schools of Philosophy,
Whose Sense, or Reason does in Fancy lie;
But your Philosophy is Practical,
Whilst that of other Schools, but Notional;
You teach all Ignorants of Life, their Part,
Increasing more their Knowledge, by their Smart;
By Sufferings, and sharp Necessity,
To teach them Patience, Fool's Philosophy;
By thee, the Thoughtless may be Pensive made,
Men, and the World, and thee too, best may read;
A Man, in thee, may study best, Mankind,
And the true Knowledge of the World may find;
The most hard, and most useful Knowledge, which
The World can least teach, least known, by the Rich;
Art, as a College, the best sort of School,
School of Affliction, for the thoughtless Fool;
Which teaches vain Man his own Self to know,
Most hard for proud, rich Libertines to do;
Knowledge, by Libertines but less obtain'd,
A Science, best by Fools Experience gain'd;
Which least the Bookish Men, can understand;
Dost learn Men best the False World to despise,
By their past Follies, to become more Wise;
Dost teach the Knowing, not themselves to Trust,
But their Experience, its Best Proof, and Just;
So, whilst all others Knowledge is but Guess,
Yours Demonstration is, (we must confess);
You then, as all Schools of Philosophy,
Learn us to bear, without Shame, Infamy,
To yield, by Starving, to Necessity;
Since the Vain Libertine, abroad, is here
For his Past Life, a Willing Sufferer;
More Humble, Patient, in Word, Thought, less loose,
By which, he more Sense, and Religion shows;
The more in Body, and in Purse, decay'd,
The more in Mind, as in his Body, stay'd,
And more undone, the Better Man, is made;
Thus, we have Sense, Peace, Quiet, Safety here,
He who has nothing, nothing has to fear;
Within thy Walls, so Hospitable Fleet!
A Man is Safe, from all Arrests i'th' Street,
Of News-mongers, Whores, Borrowers, Men meet;
Courtiers, False Friends, to get out of whose Way,
A Man, safe from 'em, wou'd in Prison stay;
Who (the more they to Friends, were near, and dear,
Abroad) in Prison, to them, less come near;
Prisons are best Retirements from Mankind,
Where we, from our Constraint of Body, find
More Liberty, both of the Tongue, and Mind;
Where Man is safe, from Fears, and Dangers too,
Attending all, who still Abroad may go;
No Bailiff, Thief, or Pick-Purse, fear we here,
Who Debtors, nay Creditors, fear elsewhere;
Fear not the Crowd, or Bustle of the Great,
Which make the Proud, oft from the World retreat;
Fear not to be Run Down, in Court, or Street,
Or, to be Press'd into another Fleet;
Nor need a Pris'ner fear a Dun, or Whore,
Of whom, there's nothing to be gotten more;
Needs fear no Clap, o'th' Belly, or the Back,
Or, that Proud Courtiers e'er will Visits make
To Pris'ners, who, so Poor are still, that they
Can't, ev'n to Friends, their Visits e'er repay;
Then, my Restraint is Liberty to me,
Which from False Friends, False Whore's Arms keeps me Free;
So, no Shame my Imprisonment can prove,
Which keeps me from the Shameful Chains of Love;
I (tho' a Pris'ner) think my self more Free,
Than if Abroad, a Keeper, I might be;
For Love, more to my Grief, Plague, Infamy,
Has more than Debt, caus'd my Captivity,
So Chains Abroad, shou'd wear more shamefully;
Since out of Prison, Men are more constrain'd,
By Ceremony bound, by Love enchain'd;
Whom our Ambition, Lust, or Av'rice hold,
Pris'ners of State, Love, Fear, in Chains of Gold;
We so, from Worse Ties, are in Prison free,
In fear of Love's, nor Wedlock's Chains, can be;
Since now no Wife, or less Enslaving Whore,
With Wedlock's Chains, or Love's, load Pris'ners more,
For having put their Bodies in their Pow'r;
Nor o'er the Liberties of Men prevail,
To make themselves o'er to the Churches Gaol,
Wedlock, to be Love's ruin'd Pris'ner's Bail;
A Prison is, from Marriage, a Reprieve,
To keep Men from, Hanging themselves, alive,
About the Neck of a Kept Whore, or Wise,
To make a Man suffer more in this Life;
A Prison so, may for a Convent go,
Keeps Men from use of Wives, and Money too,
A College, in which Fools may Wiser grow;
Where Poor Men, well-read in Adversity,
From Fickle Fate, learn Sense and Constancy;
So the most Strict School of Philosophy,
A Prison is, and for such ought to go,
Where Men, Truth, Patience, Self-denial too,
May Learn, and Practice, learn themselves to know;
Improving both their Virtue, Faith, and Sense,
By Wise Necessity, Chaste Abstinence;
Where Men, for this Life, have the least Concern,
To scorn Death, by the Grave o'th' Living learn;
Where lie still, Carcasses of Skin and Bone,
From which, Life, Soul, Spirit, are dead, and gone;
Our selves then, we best in the Prison know,
Since 'tis a College, and a Convent too;
A College, where each Fool becomes more Wise,
A Convent, where Men Death, nay Life, despise;
Since Death is, from their Prison, their Release,
And puts them, by its Starving them, at Ease;
Where, the most Wretched Men, as in the Grave,
As well the Libertine, as Reason's Slave,
Equality, without Distinction, have;
So, from the World, the best Retirement 'tis,
Whence Men, their Way to Heaven, cannot miss,
Since that, the Way to that, a strait One is;
So, but the Pris'ner is said properly,
Ev'n in this Life here, to the World, to die;
Since Pris'ners ever such Recluses were,
As, we may swear, repent their Past Lives here;
And for this Life, have least of Care, or Fear,
Who, whilst Life lasts, Shame, Pain, and Want, must bear,
So still, the ready'st to resign it are;
Whose very Wants, their best Relief may be,
Their Souls may, from their Body's Prison, free;
By Starving them, their Wants so best supply,
And make them Live, by Death, Eternally.