Classic Poem

I

Who hath euer felt the change of loue,
And knowne those pangs that the loosers proue,
May paint my face without seeing mee,
And write the state how my fancies bee,
The lothsome buds growne on Sorrowe's tree
But who by hearesay speakes, and hath not fully felt
What kind of fires they be in which those spirits melt,
Shall gesse, and faile, what doth displease,
Feeling my pulse, misse my disease.

II.

O no! O no! tryall onely shewes
The bitter iuice of forsaken woes;
Where former blisse present euils do staine;
Nay, former blisse addes to present paine,
While remembrance doth both states containe.
Come, learners, then, to me, the modell of mishappe,
Engulfed in despaire, slid downe from Fortune's lappe;
And, as you like my double lot,
Tread in my steppes, or follow not.

III.

For me, alas, I am full resolu'd
Those bands, alas, shall not be dissolu'd;
Nor breake my word, though reward come late;
Nor faile my faith in my failing fate;
Nor change in change, though change change my state:
But alwayes own myselfe with eagle-eyde Trueth, to flie
Vp to the sunne, although the sunne my wings do frie;
For if those flames burne my desire,
Yet shall I die in Phaenix' fire.