Classic Poem

Might not this be for mans more certaintie
By natures lawes enactit
That those which do true meaning falsifie
Making such bargaines as were precontractit
Should forfect freelidge of loues tenancie
To th' plaintiffe greeu'd if he exact it.
Thinke on my loue, thy faith: yet hast thou crakt it
Nor nature reason loue nor faith can make thee
To pitie me my prisoned hart to pitie
Sighes no fit incense nor my plaintes can wake thee
Thy nose from sauour and thine eares from sound
Stopt'e and obturate, nought could shake thee
Thinke on when thou such pleasure found
To read my lynes and reading terme them wittie
Whiles lines for loue and braynes for bewtie witlesse
I for thee feuer-schor't, yet thou still fitlesse.