Classic Poem

Teares, vowes, and prayers, winne the hardest hart,
Teares, vowes, and prayers haue I spent in vaine;
Teares cannot soften flint, nor vowes conuart,
Prayers preuaile not with a quaint disdaine.
I lose my teares where I haue lost my loue,
I vow my faith, where faith is not regarded;
I pray in vaine, a mercilesse to moue:
So rare a faith ought better be rewarded.
Yet, though I cannot winne her will with teares,
Though my soules Idoll scorneth all my vowes;
Though all my prayers be to so deafe eares,
No fauour though, the cruell faire allowes,
Yet will I weepe, vow, pray to cruell shee:
Flint, frost, disdaine, weares, meltes, and yeeldes we see.