Classic Poem

Wise hand, which wiselie wroght
That dying dame, who first did banish kings
Thy light and shadow brings
In doubt the wond'ring thought,
If it a substance be, or faignet show,
That doth so liuelie smart.
The colours stroue for to have made her liue,
Wer not thy hart sayed no,
That fear'd perchance the wound so should her giue:
Yet in the fatall blow
She seemes to speake, nay speakes with Tarquin's hart;
But death her stays, surprising her best part,
If death her stayed not, killing her best part.