Classic Poem

There is none, no none but I,
None but I so full of woe,
That I cannot choose but die,
Or beg physic from my foe.

Now what hopes she shall be moved
To revive my hopes forlorn?
She that loves for to be loved,
Yet pays her lover's hopes with scorn.

Whose deserts inflame desire,
Whose disdain strikes comfort dead,
In whose eyes lives love's fire,—
From whose heart all love is fled.

Lovely eyes, and loveless heart,
Why do you disagree?
How can sweetness cause such smart,
Or smarting so delightful be?

No fair eyes,—no, no more so,
Cruel eyes, and full of guile,
You are only sweet in show—
And never kill but when you smile.

Yet fair eyes this I must say,
Tho' you should be unkind,
He, whose heart is not your prey,
Must either be a fool or blind.