Classic Poem

How many new years have grown old
Since first your servant old was new!
How many long hours have I told
Since first my love was vowed to you!
And yet, alas! she doth not know
Whether her servant love or no.

How many walls as white as snow,
And windows clear as any glass,
Have I conjùred to tell you so,
Which faithfully performëd was!
And yet you 'll swear you do not know
Whether your servant love or no.

How often hath my pale lean face,
With true charàcters of my love,
Petitionëd to you for grace,
Whom neither sighs nor tears can move!
O cruel, yet do you not know
Whether your servant love or no?

And wanting oft a better token,
I have been fain to send my heart,
Which now your cold disdain hath broken.
Nor can you heal 't by any art:
Oh, look upon 't, and you shall know
Whether your servant love or no.