Classic Poem

Farewell, O Sunne, Arcadia's clearest light;
Farewell, O pearle, the poore man's plenteous treasure;
Farewell, O golden staffe, the weake man's might;
Farewell, O Ioy, the ioyfull's onely pleasure;
Wisdome, farewell, the skillesse man's direction;
Farewell, with thee farewell, all our affection.

For what place now is left for our affection,
Now that of purest lamp is quench'd the light
Which to our darkned mindes was best direction?
Now that the mine is lost of all our treasure;
Now death hath swallow'd vp our worldly pleasure,
We orphans made, voide of all publique might!

Orphans indeed, depriu'd of father's might,
For he our father was in all affection,
In our well-doing placing all his pleasure,
Still studying how to vs to be a light;
As well he was in peace a safest treasure,
In warre his wit and word was our direction.

Whence, whence, alas, shall we seeke our direction,
When that we feare our hatefull neighbour's might,
Who long haue gap't to get Arcadians' treasure?
Shall we now finde a guide of such affection,
Who for our sakes will thinke all trauaile light,
And make his paine to keepe vs safe his pleasure?

No, no; for euer gone is all our pleasure,
For euer wandring from all good direction,
For euer blinded of our clearest light,
For euer lamed of our sured might,
For euer banish'd from well plac'd affection,
For euer robd of all our royall treasure.

Let teares for him therefore be all our treasure,
And in our wailfull naming him our pleasure;
Let hating of our selues be our affection,
And vnto death bend still our thoughts' direction:
Let vs against our selues employ our might,
And putting out our eyes seeke we our light.

Farewell, our light; farewell, our spoyled treasure;
Farewell, our might; farewell, our daunted pleasure;
Farewell, direction; farewell, all affection.