Classic Poem

To ouer-curious Critiques.

Y ee ouer-curious Eyes ( that nought can please
  produc'd by Art or Nature) ô auert
Your All-deprauing-bonefull lookes from these
  pure Flames, that Sacrifice our dying Heart.

Here are no Nouels ( which yee most desire )
 nor ought vnvsuall, but here shall you see
What hath beene said of old, in nem Attire,
  with our Thoughts interlac'd so, ours they be .

The Spider-webbe, which in her Wombe is bred ,
  we prize no more for that: nor, estimate
Pure Honie lesse, for being gatherèd
  from many Sweets; nay, more ( much more ) for that:
   What we haue gather'd, is from others Flowres:
   And, what is added, is from sweet'st of ours.