Classic Poem

Fame, who with golden pennes abroad dost range
Where Phaebus leaues the night, and brings the day;
Fame, in one place who, restlesse, dost not stay
Till thou hast flowne from Atlas vnto Gange;
Fame, enemie to time that still doth change,
And in his changing course would make decay
What here below he findeth in his way,
Euen making vertue to her selfe looke strange;
Daughter of heauen, now all thy trumpets sound,
Raise vp thy head vnto the highest skie,
With wonder blaze the gifts in her are found;
And when she from this mortall globe shall flie,
In thy wide mouth keepe long, long keepe her name,
So thou by her, shee by thee liue shall, Fame.