Classic Poem

Since true penance hath suspended
Feigned ire,
More I'll grant than you desire.
Faults confessed are half amended,
And I have
In this half, all that I crave.

Therefore, banish now the terror
Which you find
In your guiltless grieved mind;
For, though you have made an error,
From me, wretch,
First beginning it did fetch.

Ne'er my sight I'll interdict thee
More at all;
Ne'er speak words more dipped in gall;
Ne'er, ne'er will I more afflict thee
With these eyes:
What is past, shall now suffice.

Now new joys I'll be inventing,
Which, alas!
May thy passed woes surpass.
Too long thou hast felt tormenting;
Too great pains
So great love and faith sustains.

Let these eyes, by thy confessing
Worthy praise,
Never see more nights nor days;
Let my woes be past expressing;
When to you
I cease to be kind and true.

Thus are both our states amended:
For you have
Fuller pardon than you crave;
And my fear is quite suspended,
Since mine ire
Wrought th' effect I most desire.