Classic Poem

D ELIA , these eyes that so admireth thine,
Haue seene those walls which proud ambition rear'd
To check the world, how they intomb'd haue lien
Within themselues, and on them ploughs haue ear'd.
Yet neuer found that barbarous hand attaind
The spoyle of fame deseru'd by vertuous men:
Whose glorious actions luckily had gaind
Th'eternall Annals of a happy pen.
And therefore grieue not if thy beauties die,
Though time do spoyle thee of the fairest vaile
That euer yet couered mortality,
And must instarre the Needle, and the Raile.
That Grace which doth more then in woman thee,
Liues in my lines, and must eternall bee.