Classic Poem

Beautie hath force to catch the humane sight;
Sight doth bewitch the fancie euill-awaked;
Fancie we feele includes all passion's might;
Passion rebeld oft reason's strength hath shaked.
No wonder then though sight my sight did taint,
And though thereby my fancie was infected;
Though, yoked so, my mind with sicknesse faint
Had reason's weight for passion's ease reiected.
But now the fit is past, and time hath giu'n
Leisure to weigh what due desert requireth,
All thoughts so sprung are from their dwelling driu'n,
And Wisedome to his wonted seate aspireth,
Crying in me: Eye-hopes deceitfull proue;
Things rightly priz'd, loue is the band of loue.