Classic Poem

The chiefe Use then in man of that he knowes,
Is his paines taking for the good of all,
Not fleshly weeping for our owne made woes,
Not laughing from a Melancholy gall,
Not hating from a soule that overflowes
With bitternesse, breath'd out from inward thrall:
But sweetly rather to ease, loose, or binde,
As need requires, this fraile fall'n humane kinde.

Yet Some seeke knowledge, meerely to be knowne,
And idle Curiositie that is;
Some but to sell, not freely to bestow,
These gaine and spend both time, and wealth amisse,
Embasing Arts, by basely deeming so;
Some to build others, which is Charity,
But these to build themselves, who wise men be.

And to conclude, whether we would erect
Our selves, or others by this choice of Arts;
Our chiefe endeavour must be to effect
A sound foundation, not on sandy parts
Of light Opinion, Selfenesse, Words of men,
But that sure rocke of truth; Gods Word, or Penne.

Next that we doe not overbuild our states,
In searching secrets of the Deity,
Obscurities of Nature, casualtie of Fates;
But measure first our own Humanity,
Then on our gifts impose an equall rate,
And so seeke wisedome with sobriety:
Not curious what our fellowes ought to doe,
But what our owne creation bindes us to.

Lastly, we must not to the world erect
Theaters, nor plant our Paradise in dust,
Nor build up Babels for the Divels elect;
Make temples of our hearts to God we must;
And then, as Godlesse wisedomes follies be,
So are his heights our true Philosophie.

With which faire cautions, Man may well professe
To studie God, whom he is borne to serve;
Nature, t' admire the greater in the lesse;
Time, but to learne; our selves we may observe,
To humble us: Others, to exercise
Our love and patience, wherein Duty lies.

Lastly, the truth and good, to love and doe them:
The error, onely to destroy, and shunne it;
Our hearts in generall will lead us to them,
When gifts of Grace, and Faith have once begun it.
For without these, the minde of man growes numbe,
The body darkenesse, to the soule a tombe.

Thus are true Learnings in the humble heart
A Spirituall worke, raising Gods Image, rased
By our transgression; a well-framed art,
At which the world, and error stand amazed;
A Light divine, where man sees joy, and smart
Immortall, in this mortall body blazed;
A wisdome, which the Wisedome us assureth
With hers even to the sight of God endureth.

Hard Characters (I grant) to flesh and blood,
Which in the first perfection of creation
Freely resign'd the state of being good,
To know the evill, where it found privation;
And lost her being, ere she understood
Depth of this fall, paine of Regeneration:
"By which she yet must raise herselfe againe,
Ere she can judge all other knowledge vaine.'