Classic Poem

Then I enquir'd, (but secretly)
Where (then) thy seemely selfe did lye,
And at the last I came in place
Where I did view thy matchlesse face,
Where we to parly after fell,
And thou mad'st show to love me well;
And said'st, so well thou didst me like,
As better never any wight:
So well thou thoughtest of my love,
That thou, my secresie woul'dst prove,
 And swar'st the Willow-Garland worne,
 Should never cause me for to mourne.

Thou said'st I was a man most fit,
For thee, in Minde, for Speech and Wit,
And when I did disable mee,
I was commended much by thee,
As I did blush with bashfull cheeke,
Which thou (as token good) didst leeke,
Then did I give thee Hand and Hart,
Till death should force mee from thee part,
When thou didst vow for to be true,
And that my Colours should be BLEW,
 Which now to Willow-Garland change,
 A signe, that thou in time would'st range.

I then (in private) crav'd of thee,
Thy Husbands Trade and Mistery.
Thy answere was a MILLINER,
That solde small Wares, and such slight geere:
Yet open shop not much kept hee,
But to his Friends solde privily.
Too true I finde thy wordes as now,
His WARES are slight, and so art thou;
So slight had not beene his best WARE,
My Head had never knowne such care.
 Nor had I beene so hardly serv'd,
 With Willow-Garland undeserv'd.

In signe then of my first loves show,
We unto Cheapside (straight) did goe;
Where I in token of my love,
With costly presents did thee prove.
I gave thee'a Chaine of gold most faire,
All LONDON had not one more rare,
And there thou mee didst entertaine,
Thy secret SERVANT to remaine,
I thought thou onely didst deserve,
On whom a Gentleman should serve:
 Not thinking that reward for all,
 Should be a Willow-Garland small.

The day I spent as thou didst crave,
The night as thou thy selfe wouldst have;
The forenoone as thou best didst please,
The afternoone most for thine ease:
In Morning did I earely rise,
In th'Evening late to bed likewise,
Where when I was, yet could not I
My selfe to slumbring sleepe apply;
My Fancies fed me so with fits,
To Wolvercot were gone my wits.
 And all for feare, lest temples mine,
 The Willow-Garland should combine.

So daz'led were my gasing eyes,
With beautie thine, in such strange wise;
That if I shall the truth confesse,
(Although I (now) thinke nothing lesse)
I thought as then upon the earth
So sweet a sinner drew not breath,
And that all others thou didst passe,
As farre as Christall, grosest glasse;
Not onely I did like thy face,
But strangely dote upon thy grace:
 And when through Love thou sawest me rave,
 The Willow-Garland thou me gave.

Oh, how of thee, I once conceav'd,
Which now thy ranging hath bereav'd,
My musings, Mirth did bring to me,
Conceits were sweet, as sweet might be;
My thoughts with thousands I did deeme,
So well to me thou then didst seeme:
Imaginations they were strong,
They did delight, and lik'd me long:
I canvast hardly for to finde
That which might please my troubled minde.
 And had a CANVAS, you may know,
 By Willow-Garland which I show.

The Melancholy vaine then best
Did mee content of all the rest;
Oft in that Humor walk't I lone,
Which bred me mirth, yet made me moane;
It brought me joy, yet made me sad,
It bred me woe, yet made me glad:
Oh how it did me mickell good,
To chew upon that solemne cud,
In uncouth places, where did grow
The palish Willowes all a-row:
 Full little thinking in that stound
 With Willow-Garland to be crown'd,

So well I then did thinke on thee,
As better, none could thought of be:
Thou haddest (as thine owne) mine heart,
From thee it never did depart:
For thy defence thou hadst my hand,
My purse to use at thy command:
My selfe, my pen, my Wit, though small,
Was still imployed at thy call:
My Time to praise thee still I spent,
If thou wert pleas'd I was content.
 Though I for all this toyle and paine,
 The Willow-Garland had for gaine.