Classic Poem

In Night when colours all to blacke are cast,
Distinction lost, or gone downe with the light;
The eye a watch to inward senses plac'd,
Not seeing, yet still hauing power of sight,

Giues vaine Alarums to the inward sense,
Where feare stirr'd vp with witty tyranny,
Confounds all powers, and thorough selfe-offence,
Doth forge and raise impossibility:

Such as in thicke depriuing darkenesses,
Proper reflections of the errour be,
And images of selfe-confusednesses,
Which hurt imaginations onely see;
And from this nothing seene, tels newes of devils,
Which but expressions be of inward euils.