Classic Poem

My mynde desyrous off my Bodies wracke
so to be freede from this mortallytie
hath layde an Endeles labor on my backe
to waste in woe my youthfull Jollytye
My Bodye lykewyse tyred with the toyle
desyres to shutt the wyndowes off his shoppe
those thyrstynge eyes that bathes in their own soile
tyll love or death their flowinge Condyts stoppe
My harte that yelds to me no Soveraygntye
stands at amaze untyll my mistres saye ytt
alas poore harte fraughte with symplycitye
dooste thow not see she may and wyll stay ytt
And yett therein no blame her wyll may touche
Butt myne owne selfe not worthy off so muche.