Classic Poem

Reason, tell me thy mind, if here be reason,
In this strange violence, to make resistance,
Where sweet graces erect the stately banner
Of Vertue's regiment, shining in harnesse
Of Fortune's diadems, by Beauty mustred:
Say, then, Reason, I say, what is thy counsell?

Her loose haires be the shot, the brests the pikes be,
Skowts each motion is, the hands be horsemen,
Her lips are the riches the warres to maintaine,
Where well-couched abides a coffer of pearle,
Her legges carriage is of all the sweet campe:
Say, then, Reason, I say, what is thy counsell?

Her cannons be her eyes, mine eyes the walls be,
Which at first voly gaue too open entrie;
Nor ramper did abide, my braine was vp blowne,
Vndermin'd with a speech, the piercer of thoughts;
Thus weakned by myselfe, no helpe remaineth:
Say, then, Reason, I say, what is thy counsell?

And now fame, the herald of her true honour,
Doth proclaime with a sound made all by men's mouths,
That Nature, soueraine of earthly dwellers,
Commands all creatures to yeeld obeysance
Vnder this, this her owne, her only dearling:
Say, then, Reason, I say, what is thy counsell?

Reason sighes, but in end he thus doth answer:
Nought can reason auaile in heauenly matters.
Thus, Nature's diamond, receiue thy conquest;
Thus, pure pearle, I do yeeld my senses and soule;
Thus, sweete paine, I do yeeld what ere I yeeld.
Reason, looke to thy selfe; I serue a goddesse.