Classic Poem

There is none, oh, none but you,
That from me estrange your sight,
Whom mine eyes affect to view
Or chainid ears hear with delight.

Other beauties others move,
In you I all graces find;
Such is the effect of love,
To make them happy that are kind.

Women in frail beauty trust,
Only seem you fair to me;
Yet prove truly kind and just,
For that may not dissembled be.

Sweet, afford me then your sight,
That, surveying all your looks,
Endless volumes I may write
And fill the world with envied books:

Which when after-ages view,
All shall wonder and despair--
Woman to find man so true,
Or man a woman half so fair.