Classic Poem

Sweet Corrall lips, where Nature's treasure lies,
 The balme of blisse, the soveraigne salve of sorrow,
 The secret touch of loves heart-burning arrow,
Come quench my thirst or els poor Daphnis dies.
One night I dream'd (alas twas but a Dreame)
 That I did feele the sweetnes of the same,
 Where-with inspir'd, I young againe became,
And from my heart a spring of blood did streame,
But when I wak't, I found it nothing so,
 Save that my limbs (me thought) did waxe more strong
 And I more lusty far, and far more yong.
This gift on him rich Nature did bestow.
 Then if in dreaming so, I so did speede,
 What should I doe, if I did so indeede?

Sweet Corrall lips, where Nature's treasure lies,
 The balme of blisse, the soveraigne salve of sorrow,
 The secret touch of loves heart-burning arrow,
Come quench my thirst or els poor Daphnis dies.
One night I dream'd (alas twas but a Dreame)
 That I did feele the sweetnes of the same,
 Where-with inspir'd, I young againe became,
And from my heart a spring of blood did streame,
But when I wak't, I found it nothing so,
 Save that my limbs (me thought) did waxe more strong
 And I more lusty far, and far more yong.
This gift on him rich Nature did bestow.
 Then if in dreaming so, I so did speede,
 What should I doe, if I did so indeede?