Classic Poem

Lady, receive thy pesaunts gift in gree,
(Whose will is much, although his worth be small)
A gift it is that best beseemeth thee,
Whose vertues hould thy beauties rare in thrall;
So that, sith that you live without a match,
Garde you your fame with this well meaning watch.

Thinke that you live in gase of envies eyes,
Whose sight doth search in secretst thought of minde:
Thinke false suspect about you still hath spies,
Will forge offence where they no fault can finde:
Thinke deepe disdaine would blot your life with blame,
For that alone you weare the pearlesse of fame.

And yet, fayre dame, (incountring all their might)
These following rules, if you imprint in minde,
Your envious foes shall pine away with spite.
First choose a friend, whose wordes in workes you finde;
With courtesie a straunger intertaine,
But loving sutes cutt off with chaste disdaine.

Thinke fugred wordes as Syrens songes do wound:
All is not gold in sight that seemeth gay;
In carelesse trust is ever treason found:
Then, shunne the baites that philed tongues do lay
With proude revenge racke not your yeelding foe,
Lest nettles doe amonge sweete flowers groe.

Mount with your minde by vertue to the skies;
Vaile not your eares the mysers mone to heare;
From all extreames, in spite of envies spies,
In calme delight you dayes so shal you weare.
Thus (sovereigne) ends your saucie pesaunts songe,
Accept it well, or else you do him wronge.