Classic Poem

Without my Sunne, I live in darksome shade,
Whilst I with sighing spend my hatefull daies,
And in LOVES Sea without my Pilot wade,
Whilst storme my leaking Barke to sinke assaies:
I languish malcontent, deepe drownde in Care,
Witnes mine Eyes, that running fountaines are.

Thou Northwest Village farre from mine abode,
Which dost enjoy my Mistris presence faire:
Ah happie art thou where she makes her rode,
And where she bides whose selfe hath no compare.
Happie art thou, but most unhappie I,
Thou dost possesse, I want her companie.

Faine would I (for long since I vow did take)
As painfull Pilgrim in devoutfull wise,
A voyage in that Holy land to make,
At my sweete Saint her Shrine to sacrifise,
Where (for Oblation) I my Hart would offer,
Not doubting but she would accept the proffer.

But to no end I wish, it is in vaine,
A lesser Favour should contenten mee:
It should suffise me if I might but gaine
A sight of her, Her once more for to see.
Alack, this is not overmuch I crave,
Only her sight, not her, tis I would have.