Classic Poem

Whilst youth and error led my wandring minde,
And sette my thoughts in heedles waies to range,
All unawares a Goddesse chaste I finde,
( Diana -like) to worke my suddaine change.
For her no sooner had mine eye bewraid,
But with disdaine to see me in that place,
With fairest hand, the sweet unkindest maid
Casts water-cold disdaine upon my face:
Which turn'd my sport into a Hart's despaire,
Which still is chac'd, while I have any breath,
By mine owne thoughts, sette on mee by my faire;
My thoughts (like houndes) pursue me to my death.
Those that I fostred of mine owne accord
Are made by her to murder thus theyr Lord.