Classic Poem

Look as a bough cut lately from the rind
And thrown into the fire, ere it consume
It combats with the heat in noise and fume,
And sparkles forth his moisture and his wind
So since my heart was fir'd by you, I find
Uncessant tears so welled fro mine eyes,
And from my breast such heavy sighs arise
Striving to quell the ardour which (unkind)
You pass and scarcely notice take it burns.
Is senseless wood so deem'd whenas it mourns
To be no more? O blame not then my heart
That would be read in characters of woe.
You are the fire embracing every part.
Can any choose but plain that's pained so?
If such there be, he truly merits love
Even from the widow of a Turtle-dove.