Classic Poem

When with braue arte the curious painter drew
This heauenly shape, the hand why made hee beare
With golden veines that flowre of purple hue,
Which followes on the planet of the yeare?
Was it to show how in our hemispheare
Like him shee shines; nay, that effects more true
Of power, and wonder, doe in her appeare,
Whilst hee but flowres, shee doth braue minds subdue?
Or would hee else to vertue's glorious light
Her constant course make knowne; or is it hee
Doth paralell her blisse with Clytia's plight?
Right so; and thus, hee reading in her eye
Some woefull louer's end, to grace his graue,
For cypresse tree this mourning flowre her gaue.