Classic Poem

Praise-worthy part where praise's praise is plac'd,
As th' oracle of th' Earth beleeu'd below.
I'le to the world thy beauties wonders show,
O vnstain'd rose, with lillies interlac'd:
But what a labour hath my Muse imbrac'd:
Shall I commend the corall, or the snow,
Which such a sweet embalmed breath did blow,
That th' orientall odours are disgrac'd?
Mouth moistned with celestiall nectar still,
Whose musicke oft my famish'd eares hath fed,
With softned sounds in sugred speeches spred,
Whilst pearles and rubies did vnfold thy will.
I wish that thy last kisse might stop my breath,
Then I would thinke I died a happie death.