Classic Poem

When I can pay my Parents, or my King,
For life, or peace, or any dearer thing:
Then, Dearest Lord , expect my debt to you
Shall bee as truly paid, as it is due.
But, as no other price, or recompence
Serves them, but love, and my obedience;
So nothing payes my Lord but whats above
The reach of hands,—'tis Vertue and my love.
For, when as goodnesse doth so overflow,
The conscience bindes not to restore but owe:
Requitall were presumption; and you may
Call mee ungratefull when I strive to pay.
Nor with a morall lesson doe I shift,
Like one that meant to save a better gift;
Like very poore, or counter feite poore men,
Who to preserve their Turky , or their hen ,
Doe offer up themselves : No, I have sent
A kind of guift, will last by being spent ,
Thankes Sterling : far above the Bullion rate
Of horses, hangings, iewells, or of plate.
O you that should in choosing of your owne,
Know a true Diamond from a Bristow stone ;
You know those men alwaies are not the best
In their intent, that lowdest can protest;
But that a Prayer from the Convocation
Is better then the Commons Protestation .
Trust those that at your feet their lives will lay,
And know no Arts, but to Deserve , and Pray ;
Whilst they, that buy preferment without praying,
Begin with bribes, and finish with betraying .