Classic Poem

LIX

I lead a life unpleasant, nothing glad.
Cry and complaint afar voids joyfulness.
Sore chargeth me unrest that naught shall fade.
Pain and despite hath altered pleasantness.
Ago long, since that she hath truly made
Disdain for truth, set light is steadfastness.
I have cause good to sing this song.
Plain or rejoice who feeleth weal or wrong.