Classic Poem

TO Duall freinds, both Singular.
Which neare, yet farr above me are,
Anone, Beyond me too, too farr.

S r . I this Angle's double theame,
For Rude, & Scornd; in darke to dreame,
(So cruell suddaine all bereft
Of two such gentle Lights) am left.
I can no more, no further veiwe
You, that is, him: him, it is you.
Yet freindly Vantage hae's my Verse
To Looke, & good or badd reherse
Full in your face, vnblushing, &
To touch, to take, to kisse your hand.
Enioy your Sweetnesse all the way
And on you safe returnd to stay
Wayting, observing frowne, or smile,
Still hearkning how you like the stile.
And shou'd you turne it out of dore
It wou'd come backe againe for more.
(Which I shall never vnderstand
Vntill I see't vnder your hand.)
So passe it S r . So passing kinde
I might surpassing freindship find;
Freindship, alas! too rich a theame,
Forgiue me this; it is my dreame.
Which if you faire interprett, this
Poore dreamer, S r . Y r Servant is.