Classic Poem

Well many Iuels in you men behold,
Inricht in minde, not onely with pure gold;
Lawes certaine knowledge, ballancing true waight,
Leading you to give every man his right
In every cause: but likewise silver's here,
A conscience spotlesse, and a minde most cleere,
Mixed with Iron, though to shew your mind,

Into an other fancy, will not winde
On reasons anvile, till that it be beat.
Now let one judge, are not the mindes here great?
Ever he will with admiration cry,
See O how many Iuels now finde I .