Classic Poem

First shall the heavens want starry light,
The seas be robbëd of their waves;
The day want sun, and sun want bright,
The night want shade, the dead men graves;
The April, flowers and leaf and tree,
Before I false my faith to thee.

First shall the tops of highest hills,
By humble plains be overpried;
And poets scorn the Muses' quills;
And fish forsake the water-glide;
And Iris lose her coloured weed,
Before I fail thee at thy need.

First direful hate shall turn to peace,
And love relent in deep disdain;
And death his fatal stroke shall cease,
And envy pity every pain;
And pleasure mourn, and sorrow smile,
Before I talk of any guile.

First time shall stay his stayless race,
And winter bless his brows with corn;
And snow bemoisten July's face,
And winter spring, and summer mourn,
Before my pen by help of fame
Cease to recite thy sacred name.