Classic Poem

Q UHEN Diaphantus knew, the destanyes decreete
Quhenn he was forcet for to forgoe, his deere and Loving sweit
Ouervoited with the vailles of balme-rebaiting trees
Ourgazeinges grouflings on the gronde: with death prent in his eyes
Oft precisit hee to speeke: Ohe quhile hee did assaye
The agonizing dread of deathe: his wrastling voyce did stay
At last as ane quho stryues: aganes both woe and shame
Diere charridora can hee crye: myne ay adoirit dame
ffirst I attest thy name: syne nixt the godds aboue
But cheefe of thes, that boy that beeris the staitely stile of Loue
Let thoese recoirds with me, what was my constante pairt
And giue I did noucht honour the! with ane weell hallowit hairt
To sacreefice to the: my secreete chaist desyres
Vpoun thy bewties alter brunte! with neuer quenching fyeris
Thow was that idole still: quhoes Image I adoirit
The sanct to quhome I made my vowes: quhoes pities I imploirit
The stare which saued my schipe from tempest of dispair
Quhen the horizoun of my hoipe! ou'rcloudit was with cair
Thow was that soueraigne balme that sweet catholick saw
Quhilk couerit me of all my ills that did my heart ourthrow
But now suche strange events: hes interveinit sensyne
That I dare not avow to saye: nor think that thow art myne
Quhilk makes me to insert: in thois my sorrowing songes
The histories of my mishaps: my miseries and wronges
Noucht that I can accuise: my charidora no
I onlie execrate the wierds: cheefe workeris of my woe
Sould schoe quhom I haue seruit: sua mony lothsum zeeris
ffor quhom my dew distelling eyes hes sched suche storme of teirs
Sould schoe I say be made: ane pray to suche a one
Quho for her saike he never gave: not ane vntymely grone
No suirelie swrelie no? the weirdes may doe me wrong
And mak her by there bade decreete: to quhom schoe suld belong
Because the heavin dothe blenke on sum: moir blyther then on me
And giue them giftes moir plawsible: to charme a churles eye
Zet dare I weell compair: yea peraduenture vaunte
That schoe is myne by richt of loue: thoucht luck in loue I wante
Albeit my horoscope Invaide my worldlie thinges
Zit into Loue it gaue me liue: for to compair with kinges
ffor giue I knew there were: beneathe the starrie skye
That durst avow to loue my Love moir faithfullie then I
I would ryue out this heart: which interleanes my breathe
And cast it doune befoir her feete: and dye a schamefull breath
But sen boith tyme and schoe: hes tryit me to be trew
And hes founde such faithfullnes in me: as salbe founde in few
I rest secuire in that: and care noucht wha pretend
The mae presoome the mair my pairt proues perfit to the end
And wtheris faithles faythe: in ballaunce put with myne
Sall mak my treuth for to triumphe: and lyke a sunne to schyne
There sall no change of tyme: of heavin of soile noir ayre
Inforce me to forgett my vowes: maide to my fairest fair
Quhilk now I heere renew: In solemne forme againe
That to witnes as I beganne: so sall I suire remayne
I sweere by thy tuo eyne: my onlie dearest deare
And by the stageoun stankes of hell: by which the gods do siveir
That thow arte onlie schoe: quhois countenance I crave
That I salbe in Lyfe and death: thy best affected slaue
That I sall neither sighe nor sobe: nor zit sall greit nor grone
ffor one that euer sall tak Lyfe: saif the evin the allone
That there sall no deceit of Lovelye Laughing ene
Nor charmeing sounds of syrion songes: nor fare fetchit sighes betuene
Deface out of my mynde: whiche are so suire Imprest
Thy wordes soe wyse, thy Luikes so grave: thy maneris so modest
That day sall nevir daw: nor sunne sall never schyne
Sall quarrell me for appostate: for nought remayneing thyne
And that which heere I sweere: Least sylence suld it smoir
The verie trees sall testiefie: quhilk onlie are befoir
And cheefe and aboue all: this holeine sade and grene
Into the quhilk thy name and myne: in graven may be sene
O happie happie tree: quhoes euer blessit barke
Sall ludge the trophie of our loue for thy Immortall worke
Quhilk hes the force to caus: the memorie remayne
Sequestrate from the bastard soirt: of trees which are prophane
And quhenn the rest salbe: ouerpast with cairles eye
Zet sall thow be adorit and kist: for charidorais trei
Ze peraduenture to: ffor diaphantus saike
Sum rectles bodie cuming by: will homage to the make
Thus blisst sall thow remayne: quhenn I salbe agast
Into quhat corner of the eirth: poore wretch I salbe cast
Indeid all is in doubt: saue this we mone depairt
The bodye must in pilgrime be: and shee must haue the hart
The thoucht of quhilk exyle: and dolorous devoirce
Breedes sorrow sorrow heer in me: this eloquence perforce
ffor quhill I was resoluit: to thesaurize my greeife
Becaus that it sould move in men: moir mervell nor beleef
The never ceassing feide of melancounterous faites
Ouer haistnit this abortiue birth: of Importune regrates
To witnes to the world: that my mishaps are suche
That thoucht I murne lyke man half mad: I cannot murne too much
ffor giue of all mishaps: this be the first of all
To haue bene happie happie anes: and fra that hap to fall
I wote I may weell say: that diaphantus name
Is the sournyme of all mishaps: and signifies the same
ffor giue there wer no hell: but out of heavin to bee
Considder what her wante would worke: whois sight wes hevin to me
I think all thois that speekes: of sorrow sould think schame
Quhenn diaphantus salbe heard: for charidorais name
Her bewtie was but bloote her treuth wes vnreprovit
The ane deseruit for to liue, the vther for to be Lovit
Zit hes this deuilishe dame: of destanies ordanit
That he sall Lois baith Lyfe and Loue: and schee a faythfull frende
Quherefoir all zee that heeris: these amorous tragicke playes
Bestow on me ane world of plantes: on her a world of prais