Classic Poem

Oft do I mervaile, whether Delia's eyes
Are eyes, or else two radiant starres that shine:
For how could Nature ever thus devise
Of earth on earth a substance so divine?
Starrs sure they are, whose motions rule desires,
And calme and tempest follow their aspects:
Their sweet appearing still such power inspires,
That makes the world admire so strange effects
Yet whether fixt or wandring starrs are they,
Whose influence rule the Orbe of my poore hart,
Fixt sure they are, but wandring make me stray,
In endles errors whence I cannot part.
Starrs then, not eyes, move you with milder view
Your sweet aspect on him that honours you.