Classic Poem

Can this be true? In fair Narbonne 'tis said
My books are loved, all boys and sages con them,
Sweet matrons read them openly nor dread
To see a lord austere look sourly on them!

I count it naught so I am praised of these,
Should farthest Nile to me her homage proffer,
Should Hybla and Hymettus feed my bees,
Or gold of Tagus fill my swollen coffer.

For this is fame indeed; my heart was sad
And doubting feared lest flattering might deceive it;
When Lausus damned one song in three as bad
I thought his judgment erred, but now believe it.