Classic Poem

Wytt whether will you?
Eyes what dothe ayle yee?
Harte what doth kill yowe?
Sences why fayle yee?

Where haste thowe bene man
With thy sweete Phillis?
What hast thow seene man?
Nothinge that yll is.

Loue will befreinde thee
If thow attend him;
And he will ende thee
If thowe offende him.

Riche is the treasure
That the harte loveth;
Loue is the pleasure
That the harte proueth.

Beawtie enchaunteth
But the eies fauncy
But when hart panteth
Ware of a frenzey

Yf she but eye thee
Comfort may rest gitt
Yf she denye thee
Hope of the best yitt.

Thoughe she disdaine thee
Doe not giue ouer,
Thoughe she hath slayne thee
Dye yitt her louer.