Classic Poem

My tryall and araignment at loves second barr

Why did not some when first I undertook
This task of Love again, guive me my book
The crime is not soe hainous to deprive
Me of my clergy, though again I wive:
My years alow it, and those cannot stay
But each reprive's as bad as cast away
I did confess at first, soe hoapt to find
A salm of mercy but the Judg unkind
Turnd me to such a leaf and line in Her
That the Caldayck is a caracter
Of more facilety and th'Arab scrall
When pointed (by much) more methodicall
Nay, wher the berth of printing first began
I'le sooner read th'obscurest Chintan.
First with a little measurer of time
Clad all in Crystall I did seek to climb
Up to her favours, that at once she might
Consider my cleer thoughts and his swift flight
Next with a ring wherin a ston was sett
Devoted to her hand or Cabinett
Wher envy-swoln I wisht oft to have been
My self a Gyges; soe lurkt ther unseen
Then did I try (as Feature-caught) how those
Would work upon her fancy, and soe chose
A peece or two soe limmd as might express
How full my hart framd her; drew others less.
These were the bribes I sought with to procure
Eas to my fettred soul: All Courts endure
Like violence and 'tis the face of Kings
Opens all cases: Cabbinetts and ringes
Are of great use too, and a watch to line
Their time to rise up by, to sit to dine
But this more rigid than all Common pleas
Yeilds noe appeal, accepts noe prints like these
Of such devotion as in times past was
Loves polish't magick through a looking-glass
But wher the last acts of affection move
Beginns at first for vertues sake to love
Which though I cannot to my self apply
Yet hence I'm happy that my constancy
Soe firm should be that by reflections view
Your Goodnes seems t'be multeplide on you:
To love the good is easy but the skill
Hath ever been to fancy those are ill
Soe if you mean an Artist to become
Cast your affections on me for a doom.