Classic Poem

Nature that taught my silly dog, God wat,
Even for my sake to lick where I do love,
Enforced him, whereas my lady sat,
With humble suit before her falling flat,
As in his sort he might her pray and move
To rue upon his lord and not forget
The steadfast faith he beareth her, and love;
Kissing her hand: whom she could not remove
Away that would for frowning nor for threat,
As though he would have said in my behove,
Pity, my lord, your slave that doth remain,
Lest by his death you guiltless slay us twain.