Classic Poem

He said he saw the spangled wings of angels
In a tree at Peckham Rye,
And Elija walking in the haying-fields;
So they beat him for his lies,
And 'prenticed him to an engraver.
Now his books sell for broad, round, golden guineas.
That's a bouncing turn of Fortune!
But we have the guineas,
Since our fathers were thrifty men
And knew the value of gold.