Classic Poem

When I behold that face for which I pin'd,
And did my selfe so long in vaine annoy,
My toung not able to vnfold my ioy,
A wondring silence onely showes my mind:
But when againe thou dost extend thy rigour,
And wilt not daigne to grace me with thy sight,
Thou kil'st my comfort, and so spoil'st my might,
That scarce my corps retaines the vitall vigour.
Thy presence thus a great contentment brings,
And is my soules inestimable treasure:
But o, I drowne in th' ocean of displeasure,
When I in absence thinke vpon those things.
Thus would to God that I had seene thee neuer,
Or would to God that I might see thee euer.