Classic Poem

Great Jack of Lent, clad in a robe of air,
Threw mountains higher than Alcides' beard:
Whilst Pancras Church, arm'd with a sapphire blade,
Began to reason on the business thus:
Ye squand'ring Troglodites of Amsterdam,
How long shall Cerberus a tapster be?
What if stout Ajax lay with Proserpine,
Must men leave eating powder'd beef for that?
For in the Commentaries of Tower Ditch
A fat stew'd bawd hath been a dish of state.
Will you forbid a man to pick his teeth,
Cause Brutus with a sword did slay himself?
Or if an humble bee do kill a whale,
With the butt end of the antarctic pole?
Why these are not the things at which we aim:
More might be said, but then more must be spoke,
The weights fell down because the jackrope broke.
And he that of these verses maketh doubt,
Let him sit down and pick the meaning out.