Classic Poem

I am about it, good Will giue me leaue:
Stirre me not faster then my Will ca moue:
What though Hee bee my selfe my selfe must giue
My selfe, some time, to show my selfe my loue
Show? ah how Show? With worthlesse Pen and Ynck?
Alas poore Show! No Nic it shall not bee:
And yet it must, my Pen must drinke, or shrinke
Sith it doth thirst so sore to write to Thee!
Then Yuckpott by your leaue, a Draught, or two
Of gaully Liquor you must yeeld my Pen,
Which (like a Potion drunke) will make him do
His busnesse kindlie: A Hall Gentlemen
Now on, spruse Pen fall now into your Measures,
But stay, let me first number them in Minde:
You are too hastie: soft, bee rul'd, take leysure:
Now, Single , well fedd, now, thy Motion's kind
Beware thou double not, a single friend
Cannot endure suche Trickes: but, let thy Feete
Bee plac'd to please, yet please not to offend,
And in their motion Rime, and Reason meete.
I loue Thee for thy Loue, Io, ther's my Reason:
Nay, didst thou hate mee (as thou maist in time)
Yet should I loue Witts Sait, which Thee doth season
And, thy rare other Guifts: lo, here's my Rime.
Thus farre, in measure , hath my prancing Pen
To Thee approcht: Pen , homage now: why, so:
So should it bee, for, still the worser men
Must paie the better, reurence which they owe.
Now Sir, if my rude Pen may fetch yours in
After the manner of a Cooshin-dance —
Leaue when you will; and, as you list begin,
Your Discords to mine breede no variance:
But, howsoere your Feete bee placd, they shall
In Loue, iumpe with my Feete, Hands, Hart, and all:
Indeed Bee thou my Damon then, and I will bee,
At least a Pithias (if not more) to Thee!