Classic Poem

Mans Youth it is a field of large desires,
Which pleas'd within, doth all without them please,
For in this loue of men liue those sweet fires,
That kindle worth and kindnesse vnto praise,
And where selfe-loue most from her selfenesse giues,
Man greatest in himselfe, and others liues.

Old Age againe which deemes this pleasure vaine,
Dull'd with experience of vnthankefulnesse,
Scornefull of fame, as but effects of paine,
Folds up that freedome in her narrownesse,
And for it onely loues her owne dreames best,
Scorn'd and contemned is of all the rest.

Such working Youth there is againe in state,
Which at the first with Iustice, Piety,
Fame, and Reward, true Instruments of fate ,
Striue to improue this fraile humanity:
By which as Kings enlarge true worth in us,
So Crownes againe are well inlarged thus.

But States grow old, when Princes turne away
From Honour, to take pleasure for their ends;
For that a large is, this a narrow way,
That winnes a world, and this a few darke friends;
The one improuing worthinesse spreads farre,
Vnder the other good things prisoners are.

Thus Scepters shadow-like, grow short or long,
As worthy, or vnworthy Princes reigne,
And must contract, cannot be large or strong,
If mans weake humours reall powers restraine,
So that when Power and Nature doe oppose,
All but the worst men are assur'd to lose.

For when Respect, which is the strength of States,
Growes to decline by Kings descent within
That Powers babie-creatures dare set rates
Of Scorne upon Worth, Honour upon Sinne;
Then though Kings, Player -like, act Glories part,
Yet all within them is but Feare and Art.