Classic Poem

You hollow hilles and vallies wide,
that wonted are to yelde againe:
The latter cause of louers cries
resound and help me to complaine
Repeate my piteous pensiue plaines,
recite my tale when I haue done:
Howle out ye hilles, and let me heare
my voice among your rockes to run
It wil delight my dazed sprites,
when I report my mistresse name:
Amid my plaint to heare the hilles,
at euery call to call the same
Good Eccho shew me thy good will,
is no man here but thou and I?
Take vp my tale as I lament,
and say (Alas) as I doe crie,
Was neuer man that did enioy,
a better dame then I haue done?
But now (Alas) she is alacke,
helpe Eccho, helpe, I am vndone.
Besides mine absence from her sight,
another doth possesse my place;
And of my haruest sheares the sheaues,
helpe Eccho, helpe, lament my case.
I know not when I shal returne,
or when to see that sweete againe:
For (out alas) she is away,
good Eccho helpe to ease my paine.
But nought I see it doth auaile,
thy talke encreaseth but my woe:
It irkes me to recite her name,
and misse the saint I honor so.
Wherefore, sith bootlesse be complaints,
and clepings cannot right my case:
I bid thee (Eccho) here adew,
I will goe seeke to see her face
The face that Paris would haue chose,
if he had seene her in the mount:
Good faith, the lady Venus had
been had as then in small account
And as for Pallas and the third,
I meane the mighty Junos grace:
I know right wel they would haue hid
themselues, and neuer prest in place
For nature made hir not to match,
but to exceede and passe the rest:
Thrice happy he that can attaine
her loue, and to be liked best.