Classic Poem

You happy blessed eyes,
Which in that ruling place
Have force both to delight, and to disgrace,
Whose light allures, and ties
All harts to your command
O! looke on mee, who doe att mercy stand:

T'is you that rule my lyfe
T'is you my comforts give;
Then lett nott scorne to mee my ending drive,
Nor lett the frownes of stryfe
Have might to hurt those lights
Which while they shine they are true loves delights;

See butt, when Night appears,
And Sunn hath lost his force
How his loss doth all joye from us divorce;
And when hee shines, and cleares
The heav'ns from clowds of night
How happy then is made our gazing sight,

Butt more then Sunns faire light
Your beames doe seeme to mee,
Whose sweetest lookes doe tye and yett make free;
Why should you then soe spite
Poore mee as to destroy
The only pleasure that I taste of joye?

Shine then, O deerest lights
With favor, and with love,
And lett noe cause, your cause of frownings move
Butt as the soules delights
Soe bless my then-bless'd eyes
Which unto you theyr true affection tyes.

Then shall the Sunn give place
As to your greater might,
Yeelding that you doe show more parfect light,
O, then, butt grant this grace
Unto your love-tied slave
To shine on mee, who to you all fayth gave;

And when you please to frowne
Use your most killing eyes
On them, who in untruth and faulcehood lyes;
Butt (deare) on mee cast downe
Sweet lookes for true desire
That bannish doe all thoughts of fayned fire.