Classic Poem

Sir, whatsoever you are pleas'd to do
It is your special praise that you are bent
And sadly set your princely mind thereto:
Which makes you in each thing so excellent.
Hence is it that you came so soon to be
A man-at-arms in every point aright;
The fairest flower of noble chivalry,
And of Saint George his band, the bravest knight.
And hence it is, that all your youthful train
In activeness and grace you do excel;
When you do courtly dancings entertain
Then Dancing's praise may be presented well
To you, whose action adds more praise thereto
Than all the Muses with their pens can do.