Classic Poem

How is my sunne, whose beames are shining bright,
Become the cause of my darke ougly night!
Or how doe I, captiu'd in this darke plight,
Bewaile the case, and in the cause delight!
My mangled minde huge horrors still doe fright,
With sense possest, and claim'd by reason's right;
Betwixt which two in me I haue this fight,
Where, whoso winnes, I put myselfe to flight
Come, clowdie feares, close vp my dazled sight;
Sorrowes, sucke vp the marrow of my might;
Due sighes, blow out all sparkes of ioyfull light;
Tyre on, Despaire, vpon my tyred sprite.
An end, an end my dull'd pen cannot write,
Nor maz'd head thinke, nor faltring tongue recite.