Classic Poem

A CONCEITED FANCY.

P VRE colours can abide no staine;
The Sunne can neuer lose his light;
And Vertue hath a heauenly vaine,
That well may claime a queenely right:
So giue my mistresse but her due,
Who tolde mee all these tales of you.

From heauen on earth the Sunne doth shine
From Vertue comes Discretions loue;
They both are in themselues diuine
Yet worke for weaker hearts behoue:
So would my mistresse had her due
To tell mee still these tales of you.

But, Oh, the Sunne is in a clowde
And Vertue liues in sweetes vnseene;
The earth with heauen is not allow'd;
A begger must not loue a Queene:
So must my mistresse haue her due
To tell mee still these tales of you.

Then shine faire Sunne, when clouds are gon:
Liue, Vertue, in thy queenely loue:
Choose some such place to shine vpon.
As may thy Paradise approue;
That when my mistresse hath her due
I may heare all this heauen in you.