Classic Poem

A LAS , poore seelie wretche,
now maiste thou weepe and wayle:
For now, thy Forte is of no force
thou canst no more preuayle.
Fancie, let fall thy flagge,
thy brauerie is descride,
Thy shifts are seene, wherwith thou thoughtst
thy selfe from sight to hide.
The man is got away,
whom late I entertainde:
And loe, by him I am defamde,
and all my state is staind:
Why did I not him feede
with some more sweete repaste?
Why dyd I not deuise to dresse,
some toy, to please his taste?
I put into his drinke,
too much Drugges of despight:
Thou moughtst allayd the bitternes
with drams of sweet delight
Why didst thou, in a rage,
first fling him from thy lap,
And leaue to feede him any more
with Worldly pleasures pap?
Why did I, in my rage,
not speakyng any worde,
Take him so roughly at the first
and set him from my boorde?
And thrust him out of Doores
in such a scornfull wise:
Thou hadst ben better let him dinde
and let himself to rise.
Why didst thou throw him downe
the Steares in such a sorte?
That he of thy discurtesie
may iustly make report:
And beeing falne downe so,
why didst thou, Vaine delight
Thrust him out of doores
by force, in such dispight?
You, Jacke an Apeses too,
why caught you at him so?
To ride him like an Asse, as he
along the Courte did go?
Why did you hisse, you geese?
and Duckes, why cride you quacke
To raile on him? why did you not
more gently let him packe?
Why didst thou, Daliaunce,
so thrust him out of doore?
That made him catch so great a fall
and bruze himself so sore
Alas, what blame I you?
my selfe I ought to blame:
For, if I had forbidden it,
you had not done the same:
Coulde none of all my Flowers
so faire and sweete of smell,
Cause him to haue desire, againe
within my Forte to dwell?
Coulde not my Bedchamber
with all my Pictures faire,
Make him yet ere he die againe
thither to make repaire?
Alasse, I feare he sawo
the words at my Beds head:
And, out of doubt I feare in deede
that sentence he hath read:
And that hath caused him
to lothe my Bed and me:
But could not all the other sights,
that in the Chamber he
Did see to mooue delight,
make him forget the same?
Oh no, well Fancie, yet
seeke none at all to blame.
Bue euon thy onely selfe,
who tookste so small regarde
Vnto a Stranger in such sorte
and handle him so harde
Well, since that he is gone
and that I am discride;
And that from him my shiftes, alasse
I can no longer hide:
I must a warning take,
the next that come againe
Vnto my Forte, for seruice mine
better to entertaine,
And though he thus be gone
I doubt not but there be
Some youthes abroade yet in the worlde
y t wil come seeke out me:
But all that I can euer
haue, to ease my paine,
Will neuer doe me halfe that good
as to see him againe:
Which if I euer haue,
I now not sorrow so,
But I shall then reioyce asmuch
and ridde me of my wo.
Untill which time, alasse,
I languish still in paine,
And so shall doo, vntill I see
my gentle youth againe.