Classic Poem

Ah, ah! the false fatall tale I read,
When my heart Heedless and unwise,
First studied, and false Commented
On th'unknowne texte of thy Lov'd Eyes;
When thy glibe running Lavish tongue
Showrd downe more oathes thy faith t'avow,
Then Morning dewes on flowers are Hung
Or blossoms on the Summer bough.
Soe was my silly truth betraide,
By a smooth tongue and winninge Eye,
Poisons by which theres many' a Mayd
Has perishd sure as well as I.