Classic Poem

Letters and lynes we see are soone defaced,
Mettles doe waste, and fret with cankers rust,
The Diamond shall once consume to dust,
And freshest colours with foule staines disgraced.

Paper and yncke, can paynt but naked words,
To write with blood, of force offends the sight,
And if with teares, I find them all too light:
And sighes and signes a silly hope affoords.

O sweetest shadow, how thou serv'st my turne,
Which still shalt be as long as there is Sunne,
Nor whilst the world is, never shall be done,
Whilst Moone shall shyne by night, or any fire shall burne.
That every thing whence shadow doth proceede,
May in his shadow my Loves story reade.