Classic Poem

Lockes, ornament of angels, diademes
Which the triumphing quires aboue doe crowne;
Rich curles of bountie, pinnions of renowne,
Of that immortall sunne immortall beames;
Lockes, sacred lockes, no, adamantine chaines,
Which doe shut vp and firme together binde
Both that contentment which in life wee finde,
And blisse which with vnbodied soules remaines;
Faire locks, all locks compar'd to you, though gold,
Are comets' locks, portending harme and wrath,
Or bauld Occasion's locke, that none can holde,
Or Absalom's, which worke the wearer's death.
If hencefoorth beautie e're my minde subdue,
It shall, deare locks, be for what shines in you.