Classic Poem

Therion . Come, Espilus , come now declare thy skill;
Show how thou canst deserve so brave desire;
Warm well thy wits, if thou wilt win her will,
For water cold did never promise fire:
Great sure is she, on whom our hopes do live;
Greater is she who must the judgement give.

Espilus . Tune up, my voice, a higher note I yield;
To high conceits the song must needs be high,
More high than stars, more firm than flinty field
Are all my thoughts, in which I live or die:
Sweet soul, to whom I vowed am a slave,
Let not wild woods so great a treasure have.

Therion . The highest note comes oft from basest mind,
As shallow brooks do yield the greatest sound;
Seek other thoughts thy life or death to find;
Thy stars be fall'n, ploughed is thy flinty ground:
Sweet soul, let not a wretch that serveth sheep
Among his flock so sweet a treasure keep.

Espilus . Two thousand sheep I have as white as milk,
Though not so white as is thy lovely face;
The pasture rich, the wool as soft as silk,
All this I give, let me possess thy grace:
But still take heed, lest thou thyself submit
To one that hath no wealth, and wants his wit.

Therion . Two thousand deer in wildest woods I have;
Them can I take, but you I cannot hold;
He is not poor who can his freedom save,
Bound but to you, no wealth but you I would:
But take this beast, if beasts you fear to miss,
For of his beasts the greatest beast he is.

Espilus . Judge you, to whom all beauty's force is lent.
Therion . Judge you of love, to whom all love is bent.