Classic Poem

In the window of a grange,
Whence men's prospects cannot range
Over groves and flowers growing,
Nature's wealth and pleasure showing,
But on graves where shepherds lie,
That by love or sickness die;
In that window saw I sit
Caelica adorning it,
Sadly clad for sorrow's glory,
Making joy glad to be sorry,
Showing sorrow in such fashion,
As truth seemed in love with passion;
Such a sweet enamel giveth
Love restrained that constant liveth.
Absence, that bred all this pain,
Presence healed not straight again;
Eyes from dark to sudden light
See not straight, nor can delight.
Where the heart revives from death,
Groans do first send forth a breath
So, first looks did looks beget,
One sigh did another fet;
Hearts within their breast did quak
While thoughts to each other spake.
Philocell entranced stood,
Racked and joyed with his good;
His eyes on her eyes were fixed,
Where both true love and shame were mixed;
In her eyes he pity saw,
His love did to pity draw,
But love found, when it came there,
Pity was transformed to fear.
Then he thought that in her face
He saw love and promised grace.
Love calls his love to appear,
But, as soon as it came near,
Her love to her bosom fled,
Under honour's burdens dead.
Honour in love's stead took place
To grace shame with love's disgrace;
But, like drops thrown on the fire,
Shame's restraints enflamed desire.
Desire looks and in her eyes
The image of itself espies,
Whence he takes self-pity's motions
To be Cynthia's own devotions;
And resolves fear is a liar,
Thinking she bids speak desire.
But true love, that fears and dare
Offend itself with pleasing care,
So divers ways his heart doth move,
That his tongue cannot speak of love.
Only in himself he says,
"How fatal are blind Cupid's ways'.
Where Endymions poore hope is,
That silent Love is simple wooing,
Even Destiny would have us doing.
Boldnesse never yet was chidden,
Till by Love it be forbidden,
Myra leaves him, and knowes best,
What shall become of all the rest.