Erm, hello

Does anyone want to own up to sending me this poem?

In faith i do not love thee with mine eyes
For they in thee a thousand errors note
But tis my heart that loves what they despise
Who in despite of thee is pleased to dote
Nor are mine eyes with thy tongues tune delighted
Nor tender feeling to base touching prone
Nor taste, nor smell desire to be invited
To any sensual feast with thee alone
But my five wits nor my five senses can
Persuade one foolish heart from serving thee
Who leaves unswayed the image of a man
Thy proud heart’s slave and vassal wretch to be
Only my plague thus far I count my gain
That she who makes me sin should cause me pain