Classic Poem

Whilst thy affection I possest,
Nor any youth, before me grac'd,
Thy neck with his fair armes embrac'd,
The Persian King was not so blest.

Whilst to no other thou wert kind,
Nor Lydia lesse then Cloi went,
Lydia a name of proud extent;
The Roman Ilia I outshind.

Now Thracian Cloi is my care,
Whose hand and voice alike are sweet;
For whom I death would fearlesse meet,
Would Fates my soule surviving spare.

Me Calais, Thurine Orniths heire,
Kindly consumes in mutuall fire;
For whom I doubly would expire,
Would Fates the boy surviving spare.

What if old Love return and chaine
The severd to his brazen yoak;
If fair-haird Cloi I revoke,
And slighted Lydia entertain?

Though fairer then a star is he,
Lighter then aery cork art thou
Rougher then Adria's stormy brow,
Ide choose to live and dy with thee.