Classic Poem

One lovely glaunce which from the eyes did passe
Of Ladie mine, hath changd my gentle hart
From hardest Diamond to brittle glasse:
And now againe (unto my bitter smart
Through dreadfull frowne) she turnes it suddenly
As twas before, from glasse to Diamond.
So if she will, she may (and presently
As likes her) change me, who to her am bound:
If cruell shee, my hart is hard to breake:
If pittifull, tis gentle, brittle, weake.