Classic Poem

Why shou'd we that Ambition call?
To gain at Court a servile Place;
Where, to please one, we flatter all,
And aim at Honour, by Disgrace.

Where all Things we must say and do,
Most alien to the Mind and Heart;
Those who most shun us, most pursue;
And to gain Trust, from Virtue part.

Where we must say as great Fools say,
Do, what great Knaves will have us do;
That we for Wits with Coxcombs may,
With Fools for Politicians go.

Where we must flatter him we hate,
Or (what is worse) him we despise;
To broken Slumbers lye down late,
And early to proud Levees rise.

Where we must change Day into Night,
Night into Day, at others Will;
Must take Disgusts, to give Delight,
And slight good Men, to honour ill;

Make many Foes, nay be our own;
To gain a Friend, where there is none.