Classic Poem

Aloofe, aloofe, and come no neare
the dangers doe appeare;
Which if my ruine had not beene
you had not seene:
I onely lie upon this shelfe
to be a marke to all
which on the same might fall,
That none may perish but my selfe.

If in or outward you be bound,
doe not forget to sound;
Neglect of that was cause of this
to steare amisse.
The Seas were calme, the wind was faire,
that made me so secure,
that now I must indure
All weathers be they foule or faire.

The Winters cold, the Summers heat,
alternatively beat
Upon my bruised sides, that rue
because too true
That no releefe can ever come.
But why should I despair
being promised so faire
That there shall be a day of Dome.