Du Bartas | ||
24 Dulce venenum, vel sibi lædens.
Why wail'st Thou, Fondling? and why weep you, Fair?Sighing your Soules into the sense-less Air?
Blame but your Selves: Desire is your Disease:
Your Pain proceeds from what your Selves doth please.
Your chief Content is in your Torment's top:
Your most Delight is in your most Diseasing:
You drink you drunk in the sweet-bitter Cup,
Which sowres your Ioies, and makes Annoies as pleasing.
Du Bartas | ||