Classic Poem

Though I regarded not
The promise made by me,
Or passed not to spot
My faith and honeste,
Yet were my fancie strange
And wilful will to wite,
If I sought now to change
A falkon for a kite.

All men might well dispraise
My wit and enterprise,
If I estemed a pese
Above a perle in price,
Or judged the oule in sight
The sparehauke to excell,
Which flieth but in the night,
As all men know right well.

Or if I sought to saile
In the brittle port
Where anker hold doth faile,
To such as doe resort,
And leave the haven sure
Where blowes no blustring winde,
Nor fickelnesse in ure,
So farforth as I finde.

No, thinke me not so light
Nor of so chorlish kinde,
Though it lay in my might
My bondage to unbinde,
That I would leve the hinde
To hunt the ganders fo.
No, no! I have no minde
To make exchanges so,

Nor yet to change at all.
For think it may not be
That I should seke to fall
From my felicite,
Desyrous for to win,
And loth for to forgo,
Or new change to begin.
How may all this be so?

The fire it can not freze,
For it is not his kinde,
Nor true love cannot lese
The constance of the minde;
Yet as sone shall the fire
Want heat to blaze and burn,
As I in such desire
Have once a thought to turne.