Classic Poem

Upon the names of her various sutors

How-art disposd of Widdow say
Wilt thou in a fond heathen Temple pray
Or for a point reserve thy bed
I kNow-well thou'lt at last be conquered
Yet not by Him (though Keepers trye
And Wall-Her in) walls cannot love deny
What though a Fairer-seat she shun
For ankerage and on a hausar run
And spring a Leak; if soe she ride
Out stoutly This And T'other, the third tide
May bear Her ofe which that it doe
Cause hopes 'thout prayers are Vain for Fane Ile wooe.