Classic Poem

Vnto the boundlesse Ocean of thy beautie,
Runnes this poore Riuer, charg'd with streames of zeale:
Returning thee the tribute of my dutie,
Which here my loue, my youth, my plaints reueale.
Here I vnclaspe the Booke of my charg'd soule,
Where I haue cast th'accounts of all my care:
Here haue I summ'd my sighs, here I inrole
How they were spent for thee; looke what they are:
Looke on the deere expences of my youth,
And see how iust I reckon with thine eies:
Examine well thy beautie with my truth,
And crosse my cares ere greater summes arise.
Reade it (sweet maide) though it be done but sleightly;
Who can shew all his loue, doth loue but lightly.