Classic Poem

Sonnet. IIII.

MY teares are true, though others be diuine,
and sing of warres, and Troys new-rising frame,
meeting Heroick feete in euery line,
that tread high measures on the Scene of Fame.
And I though disaccustoming my Muse,
to sing but low songs in an humble vaine,
may one day raise my stile as others use,
and turne Elizon to a higher straine.
When reintombing from oblivious ages
in better stanzas her suruiuing wonder,
I may oppos'd against the monster-rages
that part desert, and excellence a sunder:
That shee (though coy) may yet suruiue to see
Her beauties wonder lyues againe in mee.