Classic Poem

Heere in this goodly Magazine of witte,
This Storehouse of the choisest furniture
The world doth yeelde, heer in this exquisite,
And most rare monument, that dooth immure
The glorious reliques of the best of men;
Thou part imperfect worke, voutsafed art
A little roome, by him whose care hath beene
To gather all what euer might impart
Delight or Profite to Posteritie;
Whose hospitable bountie heere receiues
Vnder this roofe powers of Diuinitie,
Inlodg'd in these transformed shape of leaues.
For which good Worke his Memorie heere liues,
As th' holy guardian of this reuerent place,
Sacred to Woorth, being fit that hee which giues
Honour to others, should himselfe haue grace.

And charitable Bodley that hath thus
Done for the good of these, and other times,
Must liue with them, and haue his fame with vs.
For well wee see our groueling fortune climes
Vp to that sphere of glory, to be seene
From farre, by no course else, but by this way
Of dooing publique good; this is the meane
To shew we were, how fram'd, of what good clay.
For well we see how priuate heapes (which care
And / greedy toyle prouides for her owne endes)
Doe speede with her succeeders, and what share
Is left of all that store, for which it spendes
It selfe, not hauing what it hath in vse,
And no good t' others nor it selfe conferres:
As if that Fortune mocking our abuse
Would teach vs that it is not ours, but hers
That which we leaue: and if we make it not
The good of many, she will take that paine,
And re-dispers th' inclosed parcelles got
From many hands, t' in-common them againe.
Which might aduise vs, that our selues should doe
That worke with iudgement, which her blindnesse will,
And passe a State which she cannot vndoe,
And haue th' assurance in our owne name still.
For this is to communicate with men
That good the world gaue by societie,
And not like beasts of prey, draw all to' our Den
T'inglut our selues, and our owne progenie.
This is to make our giftes immortall giftes,
And thankes to last, whilst men, and bookes shall last;
This heritage of glory neuer shiftes
Nor changes Maisters; what thou leau'st thou hast.
The grounds, the lands, which now thou callest thine,
Haue had a thousand lords that term'd them theirs,
And will be soone againe pent from thy line,
By some concussion, change, or wastefull heires.
We can no perpetuitie collate
Vpon our race that euer will endure;
It is the worlds demaines, whereof no state
Can be by any cunning made so sure,
But at the change of Lordes for all our paine,
It will returne vnto the world againe.
And therefore did discreet Antiquitie,
Heere / (seeing how ill mens priuate cares did speede),
Erect an euerlast[ing] Granery
Of Artes, the vniuersall State to feede,
And made the worlde their heire, whereby their name
Holdes still a firme possession in the same.
O well giuen landes, wherein all the whole land
Hath an eternall share! where euery childe
Borne vnto Letters, may be bolde to stand
And claime his portion, and not be beguilde.
Happy erected walles whose reuerent piles
Harbour all commers, feede the multitude:
Not like the prowd-built pallace that beguiles
The hungry soule with empty solitude;
Or onely raisde for priuate luxurie
Stands as an open marke for Enuies view,
And being the purchase of felicitie
Is Fortunes in remainder, as her due.
But you, blest you, the happy monuments
Of Charitie and Zeale, stand and beholde
Those vaine expences, and are documents
To shew what glory hath the surest holde
You tell these times, wherein kind Pietie
Is dead intestate, and true noble Worth
Hath left no heire, that all things with vs die,
Saue what is for the common good brought forth.
Which this iudicious Knight did truely note,
And therefore heere hath happily begunne
To shew this age, that had almost forgot
This way of glory, and thereby hath wonne
So much of Time, as that his memorie
Will get beyond it, and will neuer die.