Classic Poem

If ever wonder could report a wonder,
Or tongue of wonder worth could tell a wonder thought,
Or ever joy expresse, what perfect joy hath taught,
Then wonder, tongue, then joy, might wel report a wonder.

Could all conceite conclude, which past conceite admireth,
Or could mine eye but ayme, her objects past perfection,
My words might imitate my deerest thoughts direction:
And my soule then obtaine which so my soule desireth.

Were not Invention stauld, treading Inventions maze,
Or my swift-winged Muse tyred by too hie flying,
Did not perfection still on her perfection gaze,
Whilst Love (my Phaenix bird) in her own flame is dying,
Invention and my Muse, perfection and her love,
Should teach the world to know the wonder that I prove.