Classic Poem

My D ELIA hath the waters of mine eies,
The ready handmayds on her grace t'attend:
That neuer fall to ebbe, but euer rise,
For to their flow she neuer grants an end.
Th'Ocean neuer did attend more duly
Vpon his souereignes course, the nights pale Queene,
Nor payd the impost of his waues more truly,
Then mine vnto her cruelty hath beene.
Yet nought the rocke of that hard heart can moue,
Where beat these teares with zeale, and fury driues:
And yet I'd rather languish for her loue,
Then I would ioy the fairest she that liues.
And if I finde such pleasure to complaine,
What should I do then, if I should obtaine?