Classic Poem

So may the faire aspect of pleased heaven
Conforme my noone of dayes, and crown their even;
So may the gladder smileSof earth present
My fortunes with the height of joye's content;
As I lament with unaffected breath,
Our losse (deare Ailmer ) in thy happy death:
May the false teare, that's forc'd, or slides by Art
That hath no warrant from the soule, the heart.
Or that exceeds not nature's faint commission,
Or dares (unvented) come to composition;
O, may that teare in stricter judgement rise
Against those false those faint, those flattering eyes.