Classic Poem

Fayre ye be sure, but cruell and unkind,
As is a Tygre that with greedinesse
Hunts after bloud, when he by chauce doth find
A feeble beast, doth felly him oppresse.
Fayre be ye but proud and pittilesse,
As is a storme, that all things doth prostrate:
Finding a tree alone all comfortlesse,
Beats on it strongly it to ruinate.
Fayre be ye sure, but hard and obstinate,
As is a rocke amidst the raging floods:
Gaynst which a ship of succour desolate,
Doth suffer wreck both of her selfe and goods.
That ship, that tree, and that same beast am I,
Whom ye doe wreck, doe ruine, and destroy.