Classic Poem

The fire to see my wrongs for anger burneth,
The Ayre in raine for my affliction weepeth,
The Sea to ebbe for griefe his flowing turneth,
The Earth with pittie dull his center keepeth;
Fame is with wonder blased,
Time runnes away for sorrow,
Place standeth still amazed
To see my night of euils, which hath no morrow:
Alas, alonely she no pitie taketh
To know my miseries, but, chaste and cruell,
My fall her glory maketh;
Yet still her eyes giue to my flames their fuell.
Fire, burne me quite, till sense of burning leaue me;
Ayre, let me draw thy breath no more in anguish;
Sea, drown'd in thee, of tedious life bereaue me;
Earth, take this earth wherein my spirits languish;
Fame, say I was not borne;
Time, hast my dying hower;
Place, see my graue vptorne:
Fire, ayre, sea, earth, fame, time, place, shew your power.
Alas, from all their helps I am exiled,
For hers am I, and Death feares her displeasure:
Fie, Death, thou art beguiled!
Though I be hers, she makes of me no treasure