Classic Poem

Since thou (false Dame) dost force me write,
Who dost my Love reward with spight:
Since thou didst (first) the knot untye,
Where Love, (long knit) twixt us did lie:
Since (carelesse) thou didst (first) him loose,
Whom thou (for ever) Friend didst choose;
Then thinke not much, although I take
My Penne in hand defence to make,
To cleare my selfe from every Crime,
Committed by fond Lightnesse thine,
 Although thou make mee (wronged) beare
 The Willow Garland which I weare.

And though I stand in my defence
And quit my selfe through Innocence;
Suppose not yet, this Speech I make
That thou shouldst pittie on mee take
For I disdayne so much thy Change,
(Though but of late, thou ganne to range,)
That I doe loath to heare from thee,
Much more thy flattering Face to see:
So much thy dealing I detest,
That I have (now) set up my Rest;
 Although thou thinking me to grieve,
 The Willow-Garland dost me give.

And if thou any thing shalt finde
In this my LETTER, 'gainst thy minde,
Lay not on mee the fault and blame,
But on thy selfe, which caus'd the same:
Nor thinke not, though I roughly write,
But that I more could say in spight.
I onely will before thee lay
What I have done for thee each way;
That Conscience thine condemne may thee
For thy so base Discourtesie,
 Who gav'st to mee for my reward,
 The Willow-Garland passing hard.

Ne thinke that I am such a Childe,
That with fayre words Ile be beguil'd:
What thou dost promise to me now,
(Long since) thou mad'st the selfe-same vow,
Too oft thy Oathes I did beleeve:
And, that I did so, doth mee grieve.
Thy Teares entreated me for grace,
Which at command fell from thy face;
Thy Sighes did sue, and found remorse;
The Plaints had power, and were of force:
 Which force mee (now) against my will,
 To weare the Willow-Garland still.

Thy Words did worke in piercing wise,
And Vertue was in those false eyes;
Thy Gate got what it would for thee;
Thy witching Tongue did ravish mee:
What so thou wouldst, thou could'st but crave,
No sooner aske, but thou mightst have.
But this (perhaps) thou mindest not,
All this (may be) thou hast forgot;
Well then, that thou (maist) this againe
Remember to my losse, thy shame,
 Ile (All) repeate, though thou me gave,
 The Willow-Garland nothing brave.

Blush then for shame, if shame thou hast,
Let Bashfulnesse in face be plac'd;
Looke wanne for griefe, hold downe thine eyes,
As one condemn'd in guilty wise,
Swell bigge for Anger 'bout thy Heart,
Pale be in lookes, and every part;
Let inward Bowels deadly ake,
And vncooth cold, thee (sodayne) take;
Close cover thee, with some white Vayle,
Whilst I of thee doe tell this Tayle,
 And MAIDENBLUSH let be thy weare,
 Whilst I the Willow-Garland beare.

First when I view'd thy heavenly Face,
Thy seemely Stature, gallant Grace,
Thy Hayre like curled wyre of Gold,
Thine Eyes like Starres in Winter cold,
Thy milky Necke, thy comely Nose,
Thy Colour, Lilly, mixt with Rose,
Thy Shoulders slender, and yet strong,
Thy supple Hand, and Fingers long,
Thy straight cleane Legge, thy pretty Foote,
Like to the noble Cedars roote;
 I thought not once then in my minde,
 The Willow-Garland for to finde.

When I thus viewd thee, thou dist goe
Much like an Angell bright in show;
Thou wert no Woman I did ghesse,
And yet then Goddesse somewhat lesse;
What shall I say? short Tale to tell,
I straight-wayes lik'd thee passing well;
And secretly I sware in Hart,
That I from thee would never part,
But be at thy commanding still,
So I might have thy like good-will.
 And that through thee I ne'er might seeme
 To weare the Willow-Garland greene.