Classic Poem

Ever may you, admired Sir, increase,
Drawing due age unto your happiness
With wisdom walking in a wary way,
Admired Lord, that therein you may stay,
Rightly we therefore pray, you mounted high,
Due age may draw unto your dignity.

Mount may you still in years, as in your honour,
O vertue is your guide, you wait upon her:
Vertue hath length of daies in her right hand,
Nor doth her left hand cease, but doth command
Treasures, whereon the worldlings so do doat,
Advantage makes one cut anothers throat.
Grow unto age , and let due age increase,
Vertues great Peere, filling your heart with blisse;
Endlesse so shall abide your happines.