Classic Poem

The prisone sweet that Captyve holdes my mynde
Comparde to this wherein my bodye lyes
So greet resemblaunce in them I doo fynde
As that yt makes in me straunge fancyes ryse
For there my woofull mynde may not his thoughts disclose
As here my pyninge lymmes theyre lybertye do lose

My dyett badd yll bloude in me doth breede
I seldome mete with any pleasinge Dyshe
Likewise theis lookes whereon my mynde doth feade
Yelds me releefe butt not as I would wishe
In chamber all alone I slumber oute the night
And so in one alone doth reste my cheefe delyght

My wyndowes whence I might beholde the skies
And vewe the worlde are closede upp from mee
So hath affection blyndyd both myne Eyes
That in my selfe no pleasure I cann see
My keper Comforts me that woe in Joyes shall ende
As hope perswadeth me that love wilbe my frende

But yff yow woulde the dyffrence truly knowe
Twixt theis too prysons, that in deed is straunge
My mynde seeks nott his Prysone to foregoe
As captyve bodies that desier to raunge
For proofe full faine from hence I would be free
But styll my mynde desires your thrall to bee.