Classic Poem

Woolde I were changde into that golden Showre
that so devynly streamede from the Skies
To fall in droppes upon my daynty flowre
when in her bedd Shee sollytarye lyes
Then woulde I hope such showers as richly shyne
Sholde pearce more deepe then thes waste teares of myne.

Els woolde I were that plumed Swann snowhite
under whose forme was hydden heavenly power
Then in that River woolde I moste delighte
whose waves do beate against hyr Stately Bower
And on those bancks so tune my dyinge Songe
That hir deaffe eares shoulde thinke my plaints to longe.

Or woolde I were Narcissus that sweete Boye
and Shee her selfe the fountayne cristall cleare
Who ravishte with the pryde of his owne Joye
drenchede his lymmes with gazinge over neare
So shoulde I brynge my Sowle to happie reste
To ende my lyfe in that I lovede Beste.