Classic Poem

L OE ! I have made a Calender for every yeare,
That steele in strength, and time in durance, shall outweare:
And if I marked well the starres revolution,
It shall continewe till the worlds dissolution,
To teach the ruder shepheard how to feede his sheepe,
And from the falsers fraud his folded flocke to keepe.
Goe, lyttle Calender! thou hast a free passeporte:
Goe but a lowly gate emongste the meaner sorte:
Dare not to match thy pype with Tityrus hys style,
Nor with the Pilgrim that the Ploughman playde awhyle:
But followe them farre off, and their high steppes adore:
The better please, the worse despise; I aske no more.