Classic Poem

My words, in hope to blaze a stedfast mind,
This marble chose, as of like temper knowne:
But loe, my words defaste, my fancies blinde,
Blots to the stone, shames to my selfe I finde,
And witnesse am how ill agree in one
A woman's hand with constant marble stone.
My words full weake, the marble full of might;
My words in store, the marble all alone;
My words blacke inke, the marble kindly white;
My words vnseene, the marble still in sight,
May witnesse beare how ill agree in one
A woman's hand with constant marble stone.