Classic Poem

The bird of Juno glories in his plumes;
Pride makes the fowl to prune his feathers so.
His spotted train, fetch'd from old Argus' head,
With golden rays like to the brightest sun,
Insetteth self-love in a silly bird,
Till, midst his feet, and then lets fall his plumes.
Beauty breeds pride, pride hatcheth forth disdain,
Disdain gets hate, and hate calls for revenge,
Revenge with bitter prayers urgeth still;
Thus self-love nursing up the pomp of pride
Makes beauty wrack against an ebbing tide.