Classic Poem

The Louer by his gifts thinkes to conquer chastitie,
And with his gifts sends these verses to the Lady.

What face so faire that is not crackt with gold?
What wit so worth but hath gold in his wonder?
What learning but with golden lines will hold?
What state so hie, but gold could bring it vnder?
What thought so sweet but gold doth better season?
And what rule better than the Golden reason?
The ground is fat that yeelds the golden fruit:
The study high, that fits the golden state:
The labour sweete that gets the golden suit:
The reckning rich, that scornes the golden rate:
The loue is sure, that golden hope doth hold:
And rich again that serues the god of Gold.

The womans answer.

Foule is the face, whose beauty gold can race:
Worthless the wit that hath gold in her wonder:
Vnlearned lines puts gold in honours place:
Wicked the state that will to coine come vnder:
Base the conceit that seasoned is with gold:
And beggars rule that such a reason hold.
Earth giues the gold but Heauen giues greater grace,
Men study wealth, but Angels wisdomes state,
Labour seekes peace, loue hath an higher place:
Death makes the reckning, life is all my rate:
Thy hope is hell, my hope of heauen doth hold,
God giue me grace, let Diues die with gold.