Classic Poem

Oh! why did Fame my heart to love betray,
By telling my Dear's virtue and perfection?
Why, did my traitor ears to it convey
That siren song, cause of my heart's infection?
Had I been deaf, or Fame her gifts concealed,
Then had my heart been free from hopeless love:
Or were my state likewise by it revealed,
Well might it Philomel to pity move.
Then should she know how Love doth make me languish,
Distracting me 'twixt hope and dreadful fear;
Then should she know my care, my plaints, and anguish,
All which for her dear sake I meekly bear.
Yea, I could quietly death's pains abide,
So that she knew that for her sake I died.