Classic Poem

Finding my selfe (before I would be found)
Neer lost in Laborinths of haplesse loue,
I got me to a melancholy groue
To deseant on Loues griefs to heauy Ground:
Where whilst I coucht me to performe the same,
The Flies, and Gnats, without still vexed me;
And Grief, within, as busy as a Bee,
Vnto my treble grief, made double game:
So, while I sought to descant on my Harmes,
My Harms did descant on That which I sought:
For, while I thought on't I was vexed in thought;
And, in my Flesh afflicted with these Swarmes:
Then thought I Louers were like idle Drones
Whom Stingers follow, to augment their mones.