Classic Poem

You say sir that yor-life depends
Upon my love, and with it ends;
In this you commit sacriledge
For it is Joves great Priviledge
To rule the fates, the starres and all
That's heavenly or terrestriall
His Pouer you flatly doe deny;
In sayinge if I refuse, you dy
To him thus false if you can be,
I wonder what you'le prove to me?
And since that you so lavish art
Of such a precious drop a Hart
Desiringe me to take of you,
Some of that rich and heavenly dew:
I need not any, I can spend
A hart upon a private freind.
Hereafter be not so profuse
But keepe them for your proper use;
And yet I care not if I borrow
One heart to wast in publicke sorrow
Ffor thy great Foly: that all men may see
How fooles are payd with theyr owne treasurie.