Classic Poem

Like some weak lords, neighboured by mighty kings,
To keep themselves and their chief cities free,
Do eas'ly yield, that all their coasts may be
Ready to store their camps of needful things:
So Stella 's heart, finding what power Love brings,
To keep itself in life and liberty,
Doth willing grant, that in the frontiers he
Use all to help his other conquerings;
And thus her heart escapes, but thus her eyes
Serve him with shot, her lips his heralds are,
Her breasts his tents, legs his triumphal car,
Her flesh his food, her skin his armour brave;
And I, but for because my prospect lies
Upon that coast, am giv'n up for a slave.