Classic Poem

Then is shee gone? O foole and coward I!
O good occasion lost, ne're to be found!
What fatall chaines haue my dull senses bound,
When best they may, that they not fortune trie?
Here is the flowrie bed where shee did lie,
With roses here shee stellified the ground,
Shee fix'd her eyes on this yet smyling pond,
Nor time, nor courteous place, seem'd ought denie.
Too long, too long, respect, I doe embrace
Your counsell, full of threats and sharpe disdaine;
Disdaine in her sweet heart can haue no place,
And though come there, must straight retire againe:
Hencefoorth, respect, farewell, I oft heare tolde,
Who liues in loue can neuer be too bolde.