Classic Poem

The sturdy rock, for all his strength,
By raging seas is rent in twaine;
The marble stone is pearst at length,
With little drops of drizzling rain:
The ox doth yeeld unto the yoke,
The steele obeyeth the hammer stroke.

The stately stagge, that seems so stout,
By yalping hounds at bay is set;
The swiftest bird that flies about,
Is caught at length in fowler's net:
The greatest fish, in deepest brooke,
Is soon deceived by subtill hooke.

Yea, man himself, unto whose will
All thinges are bounden to obey;
For all his wit and worthie skill,
Doth fade at length and fall away.
There is nothing but time doth waste;
The heavens, the earth, consume at last.

But vertue sits triumphing still,
Upon the throne of glorious fame;
Though spiteful death man's body kill,
Yet hurts he not his vertuous name.
By life or death what so betides,
The state of vertue never slides.