Classic Poem

While that mine eyes have tears to shed and can regret past happiness with you: while that my voice, withstanding sighs and sobs, may yet be heard:
While that my hand may pluck the delicate lute-strings to commend your graces: while that my spirit rests content to have no knowledge save of you:
I shall not wish to die. But when mine eyes have ceased to weep, my voice is quenched and my hand impotent,
And my soul cannot show the signs of love in this our mortal sojourn — then may Death darken my serenest day!