Songes and Sonettes | ||
That pleasure is mixed with euery paine.
Venemous thornes that are so sharp and kene,Beare flowers we se full fresh and faire of hue:
Poison is also put in medicine.
And vnto man his helth doth oft renue.
The fier that all thinges eke consumeth cleane
May hurt and heale: then if that this be true.
I trust sometime my harme may be my health,
Sins euery woe is ioyned with some wealth.
Songes and Sonettes | ||