Classic Poem

The Augurs were of all the world admir'd,
Flatter' by Consulls, honour'd by the State,
Because the euent of all that was desir'd,
They seem'd to know, and keepe the books of Fate:
Yet though abroad they thus did boast their wit,
Alone among themselues they scorned it.

Mankinde, that with his wit doth gild his heart,
Strong in his Passions, but in Goodnesse weake;
Making great vices o're the lesse an Art,
Breeds wonder, and moues ignorance to speake,
Yet when his Fame is to the highest borne,
We know enough to laugh his praise to scorne.