Classic Poem

Should I expose to euery common eye,
The least allow'd birth of my shaken braine;
And not entitle it perticulerly
To your acceptance, I were wurse then vaine.
And though I am most loth to passe your sight
with any such light marke of vanitie,
Being markt with Age for Aimes of greater weight,
and drownd in darke Death-vshering melancholy,
Yet least by others stealth it be imprest,
without my passport, patcht with others wit,
Of two enforst ills I elect the least;
and so desire your loue will censure it;
Though my old fortune keepe me still obscure,
The light shall still bewray my ould loue sure.