Classic Poem

I Sawe of late a wofull wight,
That wyllow twigges did winde to weare:
Whose face declarde the pensife plight,
Which he through loue did present beare.
He lookte aloft as though he would
Haue clymed to the starry skies,
But still he stood as though he could
Not once lift vp his heauie thies.
His feathered hands he forced forth,
And thyther fayne he would haue fledde,
But wofull man it was no worth,
For all his limmes were lade with ledde.
You are the bright and starrie skye,
I am the man in painefull plight:
My limmes are lade I cannot flye,
My wings may not sustaine my weight.

I reade howe loue did G ISMOND wounde,
The childe of T ANCRED S ALERNE king:
Her sauour G VISTARDE constante founde,
She fancied else no other thing,
For riches nought, nor for his wealth,
Whereof he had but little store,
His vertue was her onely health,
She likte that well, she sought no more,

They had their hoped hap and ioye,
If T ANCRED could contente him so,
But he by working their annoye,
Vnto himselfe brought greatest wo.
You are that Gismond fayre and bright;
Would I had Guistards vertuous life,
And Tancred chast cleane out of sight,
Then would I wyshe for such a wife.

Some saye howe L VNA loued one,
Of lowe estate and little fame,
By name yclipt E NDIMION ,
Whose loue was quite deuoyde of blame.
In L AÃ?MI hill it thus befell,
She sawe him sit all sadde alone,
Tis I (quoth she) I knowe full well,
For whom he mournes and makes his mone.
She shamed not of L AÃ?MI hill,
Nor yet of Louers simple state,
But soone consentes vnto his will,
And him did choose to be her mate.
O Luna looke upon thy Loue,
Endimion makes his mone to thee:
Be not abasht, let pittie moue,
That loue for loue may yeelden bee.