Classic Poem

D E licate Beauty, why should you disdaine
With pity at least to lessen my pain?
Yet if you purpose to render no cause,
Will and not Reason is Judge of those Lawes.

Suffer in silence I can with delight
Courting your Anger to live in your sight,
Inwardly languish, and like my disease,
Alwaies provided my sufferance please.

Take all my comforts in present away,
Let all but the hope of your favour decay,
Rich in reversion Ile live as content,
As he to whom Fortune her fore lock hath lent.