Classic Poem

Caesar , I know you often praise
My books—and will it change your wont
That yonder jealous rascal says
You don't?

If rumoured words his anger stir,
His envious wrath must rise anew
At boons no other could confer,
Save you.

He gnaws his grimy nails for spite,
Just watch him turning livid green;
Grant me fresh bounties to excite