Classic Poem

C HAST, AS AN AGED H EREMIT , at his Death;
Faire, as the morning, sweeter then the Breath
Of Violets; and as the Turtle, true
Where She affects, never enquiring new;
And (seing the world 'counts it an ornament)
She Shall be rich, sufficient to Content;
Not Starrs, but equall Sunn's, are her faire Eyes,
Dressing the Sphere, where all perfection Lyes;
Soe sweetly modest, as in Either Eye
(Without a guide) men might read Chastitie;
The common Praise, of Lillie, and the Rose
Fresh as in June, here in December growes;
Her necke, her brest, her wast; (for lower, I
Not dare to fall) might ravish everie Eye;
To adorne these, Motion, which in soe faire state
Shee doth Expresse, Juno might imitate;
Sober, to speake, but when her Accents come,
Minerva present, would be stricken dumbe;
A Mind, beyond Expression; vertuous, more
Then Anchorites, even in their Dying Hower:
All these, in Woman; but which, which is Shee?
All women, are soe; or at least, should Bee.