Classic Poem

Blest be that Thought , past time beyond al thought ,
That first did moue that wise, as holy hart ,
To reare this Trophey where his vertues fought
And conquer'd Rage , with whom those times took part:
A sacred Trophey left for Vertue's vse,
Not onely (as are others) for meere fame ;
But as a nere-dri'd Dugge vnto the Muse ,
That times , past time might suck sweets from the same.
Sing sweetly (blessed Babes , that sucke the Brest
Of this sweete Nectar -dropping Magdalen )
Their praise in holy Hymnes , by whom yee Feast,
The God of Gods, and Waineflet best of Men :
Sing in a Vnion with the Angels ' Quires,
Sith Heav'n's your house, contenting your desires.