Classic Poem

Whom raging dog doth bite,
Hee doth in water still
That Cerberus' image see:
Loue mad, perhaps, when he my heart did smite,
More to dissemble ill,
Transform'd himselfe in thee,
For euer since thou present art to mee:
No spring there is, no floud, nor other place,
Where I, alas! not see thy heauenly face.