Classic Poem

Fair that your wisedome may to men appeare,
Rather another mans opinions heare,
And rest your selfe you will then on your owne;
Neverthelesse you'r not so carelesse growne,
Carelesse to thinke what may breed good event.
In other mens conceits to rest content,
So doe not you, for a sharp wit you have,

Conceits to try, which sordid are, which grave,
On which as solid counsell to rely;
Then which, but as a fond conceit to fly.
Thus nether on your owne, or others minde,
In flashie fond Conceits at all you binde;
Nor doe ingraft them in your heart to be
Grave oracles of your prosperity;
The counsell, not conceit , which you have tried,
On which you finde it best to have relyed,
Now this your practice doth a precept give,
Enjoyning that, none on conceits doe live.