Classic Poem

The joy you say the Heavens in motion trie
Is not for change, but for their constancy.
Should they stand still, their change you then might move,
And serve your turne in praise of fickle love.
That pleasure is not but diversified,
Plainely makes proofe your youth, not judgement tried.
The Sunnes renewing course, yet is not new,
Since tis but one set course he doth pursue,
And though it faigned be, that he hath chang'd,
'Twas when he from his royall seate hath raing'd:
His glorious splendor, free from such a staine,
Was forc'd to take new shapes, his end to gaine.
And thus indeed the Sunne may give you leave,
To take his worst part, your best to deceive.
And whereof he himselfe hath been ashamd,
Your greatnesse praiseth, fitter to be blamd,
Nothing in greatnes loves a strange delight,
Should we be governd then by appetite?
A hungry humour, surfetting on ill,
Which Glutton-like with cramming will not fill.
No Serpent can bring forth so foule a birth,
As change in love, the hatefullst thing on earth.
Yet you doe venture this vice to commend,
As if of it, you Patron were, or Friend.
Foster it still, and you shall true man be
Who first for change, lost his felicitie.
Rivers (tis true) are clearest when they run,
But not because they have new places won;
For if the ground be muddy where they fall,
The clearenesse with their change, doth change with all,
Lakes may be sweet, if so their bottoms be;
From rootes, not from the leaves our fruit we see.
But love too rich a prize is for your share,
Some little idle liking he can spare
Your wit to play withall; but true love must
Have truer hearts to lodge in, and more just,
While this may be allow'd you for loves might,
As for dayes glory framed was the night.
That you can outward fairenesse so affect,
Shewes that the worthier part you still neglect.
Or else your many changings best appeares;
For beauty changeth faster then the yeares:
And that you can love greatnesse, makes it knowne,
The want of height in goodnesse of your owne.
Twas not a happinesse in ancient time
To hold plurality to be no crime,
But a meere ignorance, which they did mend,
When the true light did glorious lusture lend.
And much I wonder you will highly rate
The brutish love of Nature, from which state
Reason doth guide us, and doth difference make
From sensuall will, true reasons lawes to take.
Wer't not for Reason, we but brutish were,
Nor from the beasts did we at all differ;
Yet these you praise, the true stile opinion,
By which truths government is shroudly gon.
Honor by you esteemd a title, true,
A title cannot claimd by change as due.
It is too high for such low worth to reach,
Heaven gifts bestow'th as to belong to each.
And this true love must in revenge bestow
On you, his sacred power, with paine to know:
A love to give you fickle, loose, and vaine,
Yet you with ceaselesse griefe, seeke to obtaine
Her fleeting favours, while you wayling prove,
Meerely for punishment a steddy love:
Let her be faire, but false, great, disdainefull,
Chast, but to you, to all others, gainefull,
Then shall your liberty and choice be tide
To paine, repentance, and (the worst sinne) pride.
But if this cannot teach you how to love,
Change still, till you can better counsell prove:
Yet be assur'd, while these conceits you have,
Love will not owne one shot (you say) he gave.
His are all true, all worthy, yours unjust,
Then (changing you) what can you from him trust.
Repentance true felt, oft the Gods doth win,
Then in your Waine of love, leave this foule sin:
So shall you purchase favour, bannish shame,
And with some care obtaine a lovers name.