Classic Poem

Within the garden plot of thy faire face,
Doth grow a graffe of diuers qualities:
A matter rare within so little space,
A man to find such sundry properties:
For commonly the roote in euery tree,
Barcke, body, boughes, bud, leafe, and fruit agree
First, for the roote is rigor in the brest,
Treason the tree, that springeth of the same,
Beautie the barcke that ouerspreds the rest,
The boughes are braue, and climing vp to fame,
Braules be the buds that hang on euery bowe,
A blossom fit for such rootes to allowe
Loue is the leafe that little time endures,
Flattrie the fruit which treasons tree doth beare,
Though beauties barcke at first the eie allure,
Yet at the last ill will, the worme, doth weare
Away the leafe, the blossoms, boughes, and all,
And rigors roote makes beauties buds to fall

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