Classic Poem

I: Cannot be contented
ffrom loue to be absented
although I were p re sented,
Ile haue another bout;
I know shee is vnwilling
to heare of all the skillinge;
shee rather had bee lilling,
if I I could ffind her out

but if tha t time & lesure serue,
infaith shee shall not neede to sterne;
ffor well I know shee doth deserue
to tast vpon sweet Nectair,
the ffoode wheron the gods do ffeede,
& all they gods they haue decreede
but shee shall haue itt att her neede!
hey hoe! my harte is wearye!

Some say, " if I come nye her,
my liffe must pay the hyer;"
but if I scape ffrom ffyer,
then let them doe their worst;
for water, I am sure,
while grinding doth endure,
will come like hawke to lure,
or else the Miller is curst.

looke in the dam, & you may spye
heere is soe much tha t some runs by;
there neu er came a yeere soe drye
cold keepe this Mill ffrom grindinge.
yett shee no com m on Miller is;
shee does not grind eche plowmans gris;
she needs not, vnless shee list,
but ffor sweet recreation.