Classic Poem

Iff all my thoughtes were open unto yow
And that my harte by wordes could shewe my case
Or off my griefes yow coulde take perfecte veywe
Or yf my fayth weare payntede in my face
Iff all my syghes my teares and lynes of truthe
Coulde well descrybe a faithfull lovers plight
Then woulde I hope to move the Rocks to ruthe
And thinke withall they dyd but doo me ryght
And then shoulde love that onely knowes my cares
Seeke meanes lykewise to wreste your Careles mynde
And saye for me which els no creature dares
This trewe reporte which hee by proofe doth fynde
That I your Servaunt for my Loyaltye
As farr beyonde the rest doo merite prayse
As yow my Mistres doo in Bewtye
Surpasse them all that lyve in theis our Dayes.