Classic Poem

Grace of that Goodnesse which it selfe doth grace
Vertues rare beauty, in thick Darknesse bright,
Life of those Lines that meate the loueliest Face,
And perfect Period of true Loues delight:
The Tearmes that bound thy vnualuable price
Are Words of Wonder, wondring at thy Worth!
Archtype of Beauty! Antitype of Vice!
LOVES Holy-Land , that brings His Manna forth!
Whose Mouth breathes foorth such Vapor in suche Cloudes ,
As straite dissolues to Nectar fluentlie!
Whose Brest the Treasure of hidd Wisedome shrouds:
Which makes Thee most resemble the most Hie!
Then, highest Loue bounding to the High'st of all
In the rebound, on Thee, his Forme , must fall!