Classic Poem

Sith shee will not that I
Show to the world my ioy,
Thou who oft mine annoy
Hast heard, deare flood, tell Thetis' nymphettes bright,
That not a happier wight
Doth breath beneath the skie;
More sweet, more white, more faire,
Lips, hands, and amber haire,
Tell none did euer touch;
A smaller, daintier waste,
Tell neuer was embrac't:
But peace, sith shee forbids thou tell'st too much.