Classic Poem

The night, say all, was made for rest;
And so say I, but not for all:
To them the darkest nights are best,
Which give them leave asleep to fall;
But I that seek my rest by light,
Hate sleep, and praise the clearest night.

Bright was the Moon, as bright as day,
And Venus glistered in the west,
Whose light did lead the ready way,
That brought me to my wished rest:
Then each of them increased their light,
While I enjoyed her heavenly sight.

Say, gentle Dames, what moved your mind
To shine so bright above your wont?
Would Phœbe fair Endymion find?
Would Venus see Adonis hunt?
No, no, you feared by her sight,
To lose the praise of beauty bright.

At last, for shame you shrunk away,
And thought to 'reave the world of light;
Then shone my Dame with brighter ray,
Than that which comes from Phœbus' sight:
None other light but her's I praise,
Whose nights are clearer than the days.