Classic Poem

To Mistress D.

Not from the high Cytherian hill
nor from that lady's throne
From whence flies forth the winged boy
that makes some sore to groan,
But nearer hence this token comes,
from out the Dungeon deep,
Where never Pluto yet did reign
nor Proserpine did sleep,
Whereas thy faithful servant lives,
whom duty moves aright,
To wail that he so long doth lack
his own dear mistress' sight.