Classic Poem

Now Taper-pointed Night began to pierce
The bending forehead of our Horizon,
When as I tooke my Pen in blackest verse,
To shadow foorth my blacker Passion.
I told thee then, in Words as dark as Hell,
The Torments (Sweet) I for thy Loue abide;
And gaue the light to see their Substance well
By Lynes that were al flame thy Sence to guide.
Yet canst thou not, or rather wilt not see
The white whereat, in this dark-light I driue:
Then know (deer Sweet) directly it is thee:
Lo, knowst thou now? no no thou stil wilt striue
Against thy knowledge not to know the same,
Yet know thy Fashion puts me out of Frame.