Classic Poem

Dirt and Gold are in one Mine:
A place of sin thou dost refine:
For greater lustre thus are set,
Bright Diamonds by blacker jet.
Come gaudy anticks, transform'd Apes,
By virtues glasse here mend your shapes:
Who would of virtue picture take,
He by this pattern must it make.
Come Hæreticks of the sex, a sight,
Of her may make a Proselyte:
Her words 'gainst sin are charms, each look,
An Atheist to reform's a book.
If blessed are the meek in spirit?
If th' peaceful th' Kingdom shall inherit?
Where virtues, graces, blessings meet,
Shall not that soul be made compleat?
They'r truly noble who are good,
Virtue makes noble and not blood.
If Parents virtues dowries are,
How rich is she must be your heir.