Classic Poem

Can beauty that did prompt me first to write,
Now threaten, with those means she did invite?
Did her perfections call me on to gaze,
Then like, then love; and now would they amaze?
Or was she gracious afar off, but near
A terror? Or is all this but my fear?
That as the water makes things, put in't, straight,
Crookèd appear; so that doth my conceit:
I can help that with boldness; and love sware,
And fortune once, to assist the spirits that dare.
But which shall lead me on? Both these are blind:
Such guides men use not, who their way would find,
Except the way be error to those ends:
And then the best are, still, the blindest friends!
O how a lover may mistake! To think,
Or love, or fortune blind, when they but wink
To see men fear: or else for truth, and state,
Because they would free justice imitate,
Veil their own eyes, and would impartially
Be brought by us to meet our destiny.
If it be thus; come love, and fortune go,
I'll lead you on; or if my fate will so,
That I must send one first, my choice assigns,
Love to my heart, and fortune to my lines.