Discovering a "new" poem

One of the most satisfying aspects of spending a life in the study of literature is to happen onto something profoundly moving for the first time. This experience occurred again for me recently when I came across the sonnet "Since there's no help" by Michael Drayton (1563-1631). If I had ever encountered Drayton's poem, I do not remember--but what a joy to discover it now.

SINCE there's no help, come let us kiss and part;

Nay, I have done, you get no more of me,

And I am glad, yea glad with all my heart

That thus so cleanly I can free;

Shake hands forever, cancel all our vows,

And when we meet at any time again,

Be it not seen in either of our brows

That we one jot of former love retain.

Now at the last gasp of Love's latest breath,

When, his pulse failing, Passion speechless lies,

When Faith is kneeling by his bed of death,

And Innocence is closing up his eyes,

Now if thou wouldst, when all have given him over,

From death to life thou mightst him yet recover.

I hope the poem gives others as much pleasure as it gave me.