Classic Poem

The Aire with swete my sences doe delight,
The earthe with flowres, doth gladd my heavie eye
The fier with warmth revives my dying spritt.
The water cooles that is too hott and drye:
The aire, the earthe, the water, and the fyre
All doe me good; what can I more desire?

Oh no, the Aire infected sore I finde,
The earthe her flowres do wither and decaye
The ffire so hott, it dothe enflame the minde
And water wasteth white, and all awaie:
The aire, the earth, fier water, all anoie me:
How can it be but they must nedes destroye me.

Sweete Aire, do yett awhile thy swetnes holde
Earth, lett thy flowres not fall awaie in prime
Fire, doe not burne, my hart is not a colde
Water, drye vpp vntill another tyme;
Or Aire, or earthe, fier water heer my prayer
Or plaine me one fier, water, earthe or Aire.

Hark, in the Aire, what deadly thund'rs threateth
See, on the earth how euery flower falleth,
Oh with the fier, how euerie sinow sweateth
Ah, how the water panting hart appalleth:
The aire the earth fier, water, all to greiue me,

Heavnes shewe yo r powres, yitt sume way to releiue me.

This is not Aire that euery creature feedeth,
Nor this the earth, wher euery flower groweth
Nor this the fire that cole and baven breedeth

Nor this the water, that both eb th and flowthe:
These elementes are in a world enclosed,
Wher happie hart hath heavnly rest exposed.