Classic Poem

Formianus, that vile debauchee, is possest
Of a good thirty acres of meadow at least,
With some full forty more, all in arable lands;
Nay, whole oceans of fortune the letcher commands.
With the wealth of rich Crœsus his wealth surely vies;
So immensely extended his opulence lies:
His huge forests, his moors, with grove, pasture, and plain,
Would reach furthermost Scythia, or stretch o'er the main:
Yet this wretch, who such ample possessions can boast,
Is a blustering, bawdy poltron at the most.