Classic Poem

Faire Diane, from the hight
Of heauen's first orbe who chear'st this lower place,
Hide now from mee thy light,
And pittying my case,
Spread with a skarfe of clouds thy blushing face.

Come with your dolefull songs,
Night's sable birds, which plaine when others sleepe,
Come, solemnize my wrongs,
And consort to mee keepe,
Sith heauen, earth, hell, are set to cause mee weepe.

This griefe yet I could beare,
If now by absence I were only pinde,
But, ah! worse euill I feare,
Men absent proue vnkinde,
And change, vnconstant like the moone, their minde.

If thought had so much power
Of thy departure, that it could mee slaye,
How will that vgly houre
My feeble sense dismaye,
Farewell, sweet heart, when I shall heare thee say?

Deare life, sith thou must goe,
Take all my ioy and comfort hence with thee,
And leaue with mee thy woe,
Which vntill I thee see,
Nor time, nor place, nor change shall take from mee.