Classic Poem

Like diverse flowers, whose diverse beauties serve
To deck the earth with his well-coloured weed,
Though each of them his private form preserve,
Yet joining forms one sight of beauty breed:
Right so my thoughts whereon my heart I feed;

Right so my inward parts and outward glass,
Though each possess a diverse working kind,
Yet all well knit to one fair end do pass:
That he to whom these sundry gifts I bind,
All what I am, still one, his own, do find.