Classic Poem

Tell me my harte how wilte thow doe
now [I] muste parte from thy sweete sighte
Even as a bodye withoute Sowle
or as the Eyes that wante their lyghte
Butt shall this partinge off us two
our myndes lykewise asunder sett
Noo no that harte loves nott in deede
that can in absence soo forgett
Of all the greefs that absence bringes
what one doest thow moste grevous fynde
Leaste yow with chaunge off tyme and place
shoulde likewise change your fryndely mynde
In usinge off such doubtefull speache
my constancye yow doo disprove
Nott so but rather I doo shewe
with how greate care and feare I love
Butt yet me thinkes my triede faythe
should putt the oute of all such feare
Alas who woolde nott lyve in dreade
to hazarde that they holde moste deare
And would yow muche agreved bee
yf other lykinge me posseste
Yea all as much as I woulde Joy
to knowe that still yow loved me beste
Tell me my deare att this fare well
what kinde off passion doest thow trye
As one that hadd his sentence gyvene
and knewe that he the death muste dye
Beware for yff thow dye with griefe
then muste your love ende with your breath
Nott so my love rests with my Sowle
and is nott subjecte unto Death.