Classic Poem

I' VE got my wig: — and now, thou rash Hirsutus,
Crinitus, Whiskerandos, Ogre, Bear,
Or whatsoever title please thine hair,
Why vex the bald? Why loveless thus repute us?
Sweet Shakespeare, omni nectare imbutus ,
Was bald; and he, the wise beyond compare,
Socrates, teacher of the young and fair;
And Caesar, victim of a natural Brutus!

Fresh is the bald man's head; for love so apt,
That England's gallants, in her wittiest time,
In voluntary baldness, velvet-capped,
Through reams of letters urged their amorous rhyme:
Then issued forth, peruked: and o'er their shoulders
From every curl shook loves at all their fair beholders.