Classic Poem

Why did I wrong my judgment so,
As to affect, where I did know
There was no hold for to be taken,
That which her heart thirsts after most?
If once of it her hope can boast,
Straight by her folly is forsaken.

Thus while I still pursue in vain,
Methinks I turn a child again;
And of my shadow am a-chasing,
For all her favours are to me,
Like apparitions which I see—
Yet ne'er come near th' embracing.

Oft have I wish'd that there had been
Some Almanac whereby to 've seen,
When love with her had been in season;
But I perceive there is no art
Can find the epact of the heart
That loves by chance, and not by reason.

Yet will I not for this despair,
For time her humour may prepare,
To love him now who is neglected,
For what unto my constancy
Is now denied, one day may be,
From her inconstancy expected.