Classic Poem

In vaine, mine eyes, you labour to amend
With flowing teares your fault of hastie sight,
Since to my hart her shape you so did send,
That her I see, though you did lose your light.
In vaine, my heart, now you with sight are burn'd,
With sighes you seeke to coole your hot desire,
Since sighes (into mine inward furnace turn'd)
For bellowes serue to kindle more the fire.
Reason, in vaine, now you haue lost my heart,
My head you seeke, as to your strongest fort,
Since there mine eyes haue plaid so false a part,
That to your strength your foes haue sure resort
Then since in vaine I find were all my strife,
To this straunge death I vainly yeeld my life.