Classic Poem

As to the Roman that would free his Land,
His error was his honour and renowne;
And more the fame of his mistaking hand,
Then if he had the Tyrant over-throwne:
So Delia , hath mine errour made me knowne,
And my deceiv'd attempt deserv'd more fame
Then if I had the victory mine owne,
And thy hard hart had yeelded up the same:
And so likewise, renowned is thy blame,
Thy crueltie, thy glorie. O strange case,
That errours should be grac'd that merrite shame,
And sinne of frownes bring honor to the face
Yet happy Delia that thou wast unkind,
But happier yet, if thou wouldst change thy minde.