Classic Poem

Awake, my Muse, and leaue to dreame of loues,
Shake off soft fancie's chaines, I must be free,
I'le perch no more, vpon the mirtle tree,
Nor glide through th' aire with beautie's sacred doues;
But with loue's stately bird I'le leaue my nest,
And trie my sight against Apolloe's raies:
Then if that ought my ventrous course dismaies,
Vpon the oliue's boughs I'le light and rest:
I'le tune my accents to a trumpet now,
And seeke the laurell in another field,
Thus I that once, as beautie meanes did yeeld,
Did diuers garments on my thoughts bestow:
Like Icarus I feare, vnwisely bold,
Am purpos'd others' passions now t' vnfold.