Classic Poem

Why dost thou sing the threadbare songs of others?
Make thine own classics, of whatever tune.
Write future lullabies that happy mothers
Above abundant breasts may fondly croon.

Love through the ages found its richest vintage
In verse that voiced the dumbness of the throng;
Add to that wealth thy coins of golden mintage.
All lovers that shall be await thy song.

Or, if too far thy loving to remember,
Thou mayst the Laureate of Friendship be,
Find in the ash of Age some welcome ember
And light a passion Love might envy thee.