Classic Poem

Rich is the Diamond, a jemme of prise,
Yet such the nature strange is of the same,
That who the powder thereof drinkes, straight dies,
And (as if poyson twere) doth take his bane:
So thou another precious jewell art,
In name and nature not unmuch alike,
Since death thou giv'st unto the loving hart;
If but a kisse one suckes from thee most sweete,
Whilst he doth swallow downe this sugred baite,
The joy's so great, it kills him through concaite.