Classic Poem

Song in the sweete place,
Where as my Ladie was
walking.
Thinke if thou shouldst stande,
She would reach out her hande,
wylling.
Touch not her tendernesse,
Stoupe to her statelinesse,
hie thee.
Spirite without carkesse,
M ERCVRIE bodilesse,
ply thee.
Tell her I will come,
Knowing not howe soone,
speede well.
Loue may no let haue,
This is all I craue,