Classic Poem

Once did I heere an aged father say
Unto his sonn who with attention hears
What age, and wise experience ever clears
From doubts of feare, or reason to betray,

My Sonn sayd hee, beehold thy father, gray,
I once had as thou hast, fresh tender years,
And like thee sported, destitude of feares
Butt my young faults made mee too soone decay,

Love once I did, and like thee fear'd my love,
Led by the hatefull thread of Jelousy,
Striving to keepe, I lost my liberty,
And gain'd my griefe which still my sorrowes move,

In time shunn this; To love is noe offence
Butt doubt in youth, in age breeds penitence.