Classic Poem

Lyke as the Princely faulcon on the fyste feedynge
The frindlye hande that serves her ungently straineth
So the fairest alyve on me her Browes bendinge
The faithfull harte that loves her unkindly payneth
As the proude Byrde on wynge with loftye pitch mastring
The wylder game, the profred trayne and lure scorneth
So my fayre Soverayne with Bewty conqueringe
Pursues the stately, and yeldinge mynds disdayneth
But cease in tyme my plaint for feare of dyspleasinge
And goo to her that my affections ruleth
Say that as yett I lyve butt onely in hopinge
That her favoure will rue on my truth that persevereth
But yf thow chaunce to finde me at thy retorninge
Yeldinge my ghoste to heaven when rygor enforceth
Then honor my ende with dolefull tunes and moornynge
And write on my hearse, how my love she requiteth.