Classic Poem

PAMELA

Like diuers flowers, whose diuers beauties serue
To decke the earth with his well-colour'd weede,
Though each of them his priuate forme preserue,
Yet ioyning formes, one sight of beautie breede.
Right so my thoughts, whereon my heart I feede,
Right so my inward parts and outward glasse,
Though each possesse a diuers working kinde,
Yet all well knit to one faire end doe passe: —
That he to whom these sundry gifts I binde,
All what I am, still one, his owne, doe finde.

MUSIDORUS .

All what you are, still one, his owne, to finde,
You that are borne to be the worlde's eye!
What were it else but to make each thing blinde,
And to the sunne with waxen wings to flie?
No, no; such force with my small force to trye
Is not my skill, or reach of mortall minde.
Call me but yours, my title is most hye;
Hold me most yours, then my long suite is sign'd
You none can claime but you your selfe aright,
For you doe passe your selfe in vertue's might.
So both are yours: I, bound with gaged hart;
You onely yours, too farre beyond desart.