Classic Poem

Thou'st seen me oft fight with that clownish race
Of painted cats, and puppies glass-in-eye,
Who love to foul my fair name's purity,
And with their tongues would me to ruin chase.
Thou'st seen me oft teased by the pedant fry,
Surrounded by each fool's-cap-wearing ass,
My heart for every poisonous snake a place,
While my life's blood from countless wounds doth fly.
But thou alone like to a tower did'st stand:
In storms, thy head like lighthouse on firm land ;
Thy true heart was to me a harbour sure—
A harbour, but across a stormy main—
Few ships perhaps that harbour may attain,
But who attains may slumber there, secure.