Classic Poem

WRITTEN AT A VERY EARLY AGE .

I' VE read, my friend, of Dioclesian,
And many another noble Grecian,
Who wealth and palaces resign'd,
In cots the joys of peace to find;
Maximian's meal of turnip-tops
(Disgusting food to dainty chops)
I've also read of, without wonder;
But such a cursed egregious blunder,
As that a man of wit and sense
Should leave his books to hoard up pence,
Forsake the loved Aonian maids
For all the petty tricks of trades,
I never, either now or long since,
Have heard of such a piece of nonsense;
That one who learning's joys had felt,
And at the Muse's altar knelt,
Should leave a life of sacred leisure
To taste the accumulating pleasure;
And metamorphosed to an alley duck,
Grovel in loads of kindred muck
Oh! 'tis beyond my comprehension!
A courtier throwing up his pension,
A lawyer working without a fee,
A parson giving charity,
A truly pious Methodist preacher,
Are not, egad, so out of nature.
Had nature made thee half a fool,
But given thee wit to keep a school,
I had not stared at thy backsliding:
But when thy wit I can confide in,
When well I know thy just pretence
To solid and exalted sense;
When well I know that on thy head
Philosophy her lights hath shed,
I stand aghast! thy virtues sum too,
And wonder what this world will come to!
Yet, whence this strain? shall I repine
That thou alone dost singly shine?
Shall I lament that thou alone,
Of men of parts, hast prudence known?