Classic Poem

Sonnet. I.

The first created, held a ioyous bower,
a flowring fielde, the worlds sole wonderment,
hyght Paradise, from whence a womans power,
entic'd him fall to endlesse banishment.
This, on the banks of Euphrates did stand,
till the first Moouer by his wondrous might,
planted it in thine eyes, thy face, thy hands,
from whence the world receiues his fairest light.
Thy cheeks containes choice flowers, thy eyes two suns,
thy hands the fruite that no life blood can staine,
and in thy breath, that heauenly musick wons,
which when thou speak'st, Angels their voyces straines.
As from the first, thy sexe exiled mee,
So to this next, let mee be call'd by thee.