Classic Poem

CCXXIII

Alas, Fortune, what aileth thee
Thus evermore to torment me?
Although that I unworthy be
Thou wilt not change.

Fainest when I would obtain,
Then thou hast me still in disdain.
Wilt thou thus still increase my pain
And wilt not change?

Alas! doth this not thee suffice?
What proof yet canst thou more devise
Than still to torment me in this wise
And yet not change?

What should I more to thee now say?
Some hope in me doth rest alway,
Yet, bound to thee, I do obey.
When wilt thou change?

Seeing there is no remedy,
I will thee suffer patiently,
Sure in trust at last, perdie,
That thou wilt change.