Classic Poem

And something too (great Queene ) I was about
For You: but as it stuck, and would not out
(For wee, who have not wit propitious, doe
Travell with verse, and feele our Braine-pangs too)
A nest of Cupids hov'ring in one bright
Cloud, did surprize my fancy, and my sight:
This flock hedg'd in her cradle, and Shee lay
More gracious, more divine, more fresh then they.
Each view'd her eyes, and in her eyes were showne
Darts farre more pow'rfull, though lesse then their own.
These Venus eyes (says one) these are
Our mothers sparkes, but chaster farre:
And Thetis Sylver feete are these,
The Father sure is Lord o' th' seas.
Faire one (saith this) we bring you flowrs;
The Garden one day shall be Yours:
Wear on your Cheekes these; and when you doe
Venture at words, you'll speake 'em too.
That veyle that hides great Cupids eyes
(Saith that) must swath. Her as shee lyes:
For certaine 'tis, that this is shee,
Who destind is to make Love see.
Let's pull our wings, that we may drowne
Her gracefull limbs in heavn'ly downe;
But they so soft are, that I feare
Feathers will make impressions there.
May shee with love, and awe be seene,
Whiles ev'ry part presents a Queene;
And thinke, when first shee sees her face,
Her Mother's got behind the glasse.
This said, a stately maid appear'd, whose sight
Did put the little Archers all to flight:
Her shape was more then humane: such I use
To fancy the most faire, the most chast Muse.
And now by one swift motion being neare
My side, shee gently thus did pull mine eare;
Th' emerit ancient warbling Priests, and you
Nothing beyond Collect, or Ballad doe:
Dare you salute a starre without try'd fire?
Or welcome Harmony with an harsher Quire?
Raptures are due. Great Goddesse, I leave then:
This subject only doth befit your penne.