Classic Poem

Beauty hath force to catch the human sight;
Sight doth bewitch the fancy ill awaked;
Fancy, we feel, includes all passion's might;
Passion rebelled, oft reason's strength hath shaked.

No wonder, then, though sight my sight did taint,
And though thereby my fancy was infected,
Though (yoked so) my mind with sickness faint,
Had reason's weight for passion's ease rejected.

But now the fit is passed; and time hath giv'n
Leisure to weigh what due desert requireth.
All thoughts so sprung are from their dwelling driv'n,
And wisdom to his wonted seat aspireth,
Crying in me: ‘Eye-hopes deceitful prove;
Things rightly prized, love is the band of love.’