Classic Poem

Let others of the world's decaying tell,
I enuy not those of the golden age,
That did their carelesse thoughts for nought engage,
But cloy'd with all delights, liu'd long and well:
And as for me, I mind t' applaud my fate;
Though I was long in comming to the light,
Yet may I mount to fortune's highest height,
So great a good could neuer come too late;
I'm glad that it was not my chance to liue,
Till as that heauenly creature first was borne,
Who as an angell doth the earth adorne,
And buried vertue in the tombe reuiue:
For vice ouerflowes the world with such a flood,
That in it all, save she, there is no good.