Dear Patience

tis not fair to mint me
with shows of defective allurement,
nor to bestow upon me merits,
i much fall short of,
do not endear me thus and thus,
knowing i am not of tall persuasion made,
neither/nor
possessing of the arts that deem me pleasant
in circles of ending rumours:

mark me thus, that
i can be honest when it is meet;
that i only become rude
when too busy to be civilized,
and though
i may very well wear
the shuffle of the heart or
of some other humourous organ in my eyes,
that i be true:
do not say,
"he is a much offended fellow..."
for methinks i know what terror a
graduate endures, or
for what metal
people deem one wise.

So do this one thing for me:
do not brand me "traddudori"
shame me with impudence,
spread falsely-lashed rumours about me
for thou knows
tis mere
show
you aim to no.