Classic Poem

If (as the Pithagoreans do beleeue)
The Sea be nought but one of Saturnes Teares,
Its not vnlike, sith still I, weeping grieue
That myne Eyes, Seas should shed, in many years
This is the seaunth Sunne hath seen my loue
As firm, as flaming towards thy Beauties Heaun
Yet ouerthwartly that Heauns Sunnes do moue
Through euil Signes, that to no grace are giun:
Nere did they shine on me but to exhale,
A Sea of Teares from my stil-springing Eyes,
Or els to parche my Bloud and make me pale:
So, fall my Teares, that still do falling rise:
And, if those Sunnes thou Cloude still with disdaine,
Myne eyes shall end the World with endlesse Raine!