Classic Poem

Now thanked be the great god Pan,
Which thus preserues my loued life:
Thanked be I that keepe a man,
Who ended hath this bloudie strife:
For if my man must praises haue,
What then must I that keepe the knaue?
For as the Moone the eye doth please,
With gentle beames not hurting sight;
Yet hath Sir Sunne the greatest praise,
Because from him doth come her light:
So if my man must praises haue,
What then must I that keepe the knaue?