Classic Poem

When Phebus addrest himselfe to the west,
& set vp his rest below,
Cynthia agreed in her gliteringe weede
her bewtie on me to bestow;
& walking alone, attended by none,
by chance I hard one crye
" O doe not, doe not, kill me yett,
for I am not p re pared to dye! "

W i th that I drew neare to see & to heare,
& strange did appeare such a showe;
the Moone it was bright, & gaue such a light
as ffitts not each wight to know:
a man & a Mayd together were Laid,
& eu er the mayd shee did cry,
" O doe not, doe not, kill me yet, I,
for I am not resolued to dye! "

The youth was rough, he tooke vp her stuffe,
& to blindmans buffe they did goe;
hee kept such a coyle, he gaue her the foyle,
soe great the broyle it did growe
but shee was soe yonge, & he was soe stronge,
& he left her not till shee did crye,
" O doe not, doe not, kill me yett,
for I am not resolued to dye! "

w i th that he gaue ore, & solemplye swore
he wold kill her noe more tha t night,
but badd her adew: full litle he knew
shee wold tempt him to more delight
But when they shold part, it went to her hart,
& gaue her more cause for to crye,
" O kill me, kill me, once againe,
ffor Now I am willing to dye! "