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Samuel Daniel

Love is a Sickness

LOVE is a sickness full of woes,
    All remedies refusing;
A plant that with most cutting grows,
    Most barren with best using.
                            Why so?

More we enjoy it, more it dies;
If not enjoy'd, it sighing cries—
                                Heigh ho!

Love is a torment of the mind,
    A tempest everlasting;
And Jove hath made it of a kind
    Not well, nor full nor fasting.
                            Why so?

More we enjoy it, more it dies;
If not enjoy'd, it sighing cries—
                                Heigh ho!

About the poet
Samuel Daniel
 
By the same poet
Ulysses and the Siren
Beauty, Time, and Love
 
Related books
Samuel Daniel at amazon.co.uk


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