Classic Poem

Th'immortall Parcae (fatall Sisters three)
Of mortall men doo sing the shunlesse fate,
What once was, what is now, and what shalbee,
Their life, their death, their fortune, and their state:
Our Song let bee like theirs, for Three they were;
And so our number is, Three are we here.
Sing Laura then, sing Love, and sing will I
Of dreery fortune mine, sing let us all,
Let's sing in dolefull tune most mournfully,
How tis, how twas, and haplesse still shall fall,
The Present, Passed, and (which none can mend)
What shalbe, world to come withouten end.