Classic Poem

Ah! napkin, ominous present of my deare,
Gift miserable, which doth now remaine
The only guerdon of my helpelesse paine,
When I thee got thou shew'd my state too cleare:
I neuer since haue ceased to complaine,
Since I the badge of griefe did euer weare,
Ioy on my face durst neuer since appeare,
Care was the food which did me entertaine.
Now, since made mine, deare napkin, doe not grieue
That I this tribute pay thee from mine eine,
And that, these posting houres I am to live,
I laundre thy faire figures in this brine:
No, I must yet euen begge of thee the grace,
That thou wouldst daigne in graue to shrowde my face.