Classic Poem

And haue I heard her say, " O cruell Paine!"
And doth she know what mould her beautie beares?
Mournes she in truth, and thinkes that others faine?
Feares she to feel, and feeles not others' feares?
Or doth she thinke all paine the minde forbeares?
That heauie earth, not fierie sprites, may plaine?
That eyes weepe worse then hart in bloodie teares?
That sense feeles more then what doth sense containe?
No, no, she is too wise, she knowes her face
Hath not such paine as it makes others haue;
She knows the sicknesse of that perfect place
Hath yet such health as it my life can saue.
But this, she thinkes, our paine high cause excuseth,
Where her, who should rule Paine, false Paine abuseth.