Classic Poem

Despise base gaine; mad Auarice hurts the mind:
Ye wise, shun fraud; beleeue the learn'd, ye blind.
At play put passions downe, as monies are.
He playes secure, whose trunks hold crowns to spare:
Who brings all with him, shall go out with none:
A greedie gamester euer ends vndone.
Peace holy is to men of honest minds;
If ye will play, then courbe your warring splenes:
No man wins alwayes. It shames mans true worth,
Of but three Furies, to fare like a fourth.
Correct your earnest spirits, and play indeed:
At staid years be not mou'd: nere play for need.