The peasant Corus of his wealth does boast,
Yet he’s scarce worth twice twenty pounds at most.
I chanc’d to word once with this lowly swain,
He called me base, and beggar in disdain.
To try the truth hereof I rate myself,
And cast the little count of all my wealth.
See how much Hebrew, Greek, and Poetry,
Latin Rhetoric, and Philosophy,
Reading, and sense in sciences profound,
All valued, are not worth forty pounds.