Classic Poem

Doe I not see that fayrest ymages
Of hardest Marble are of purpose made?
For that they should endure through many ages,
Ne let theyr famous moniments to fade.
Why then doe I, untrainde in lovers trade,
Her hardnes blame which I should more comend?
Sith never ought was excellent assayde,
Which was not hard t'atchive and bring to end.
Ne ought so hard, but he that would attend,
Mote soften it and to his will allure:
So doe I hope her stubborne hart to bend,
And that it then more stedfast will endure.
Onely my paines wil be the more to get her,
But having her, my joy wil be the greater.