Classic Poem

If ever love had force in humaine brest?
If ever hee could move in pensive hart?
Or if that hee such powre could butt impart
To breed those flames whose heat brings joys unrest.

Then looke on mee; I ame to thes adrest,
I, ame the soule that feeles the greatest smart;
I, ame that hartles trunk of harts depart
And I, that one, by love, and griefe oprest;

Non ever felt the truth of loves great miss
Of eyes, till I deprived was of bliss;
For had hee seene, hee must have pitty show'd;

I should nott have bin made this stage of woe
Wher sad disasters have theyr open showe
O noe, more pitty hee had sure beestow'd.