Classic Poem

Beauty sometime in all her glory crowned,
Passing by that cleere fountaine of thine eye:
Her sun-shine face there chaunsing to espy,
Forgot herselfe, and thought she had been drowned.

And thus whilst Beautie on her beauty gazed,
Who then yet living, deemd she had been dying,
And yet in death, some hope of life espying,
At her own rare perfections so amazed;

Twixt joy and griefe, yet with a smyling frowning,
The glorious sun-beames of her eyes bright shining,
And shee on her owne destiny divining,
Threw in herselfe, to save herselfe by drowning.
The Well of Nectar, pav'd with pearle and gold,
Where shee remaines for all eyes to behold.