Classic Poem

Bvt loue whilst that thou maist be lou'd againe,
Now whilst thy May hath fild thy lap with flowers,
Now whilst thy beauty beares without a staine;
Now vse the Sommer smiles, ere Winter lowers.
And whilst thou spreadst vnto the rising sunne,
The fairest flowre that euer saw the light,
Now ioy thy time before thy sweet be done.
And (D ELIA ) thinke thy morning must haue night,
And that thy brightnes sets at length to West,
When thou wilt close vp that which now thou show'st,
And thinke the same becomes thy fading best,
Which then shall most inuaile and shadow most.
Men do not wey the stalke for that it was,
When once they find her flowre her glory pas.