Friday, January 30, 2015

Thomas Watson

from Thomas Watson’s Hecatompathia:

Passion XL

I joy not peace, where yet no war is found;
I fear, and hope; I burn, yet freeze withal;
I mount to heav’n, yet lie but on the ground;
I compass nought, and yet I compass all:
  I live her bond, which neither is my foe,
  Nor friend; nor holds me fast, nor lets me go;
Love will not that I live, nor lets me die;
Nor locks me fast, nor suffers me to scape;
I want both eyes and tongue, yet see and cry;
I wish for death, yet after help I gape;
  I hate myself, but love another wight;
  And feed on grief, in lieu of sweet delight;
At selfsame time I both lament and joy;
I still am pleas’d, and yet displeased still;
Love sometimes seems a God, sometimes a Boy;
Sometimes I sink, sometimes I swim at will;
  Twixt death and life, small difference I make;
  All this dear Dame befalls me for thy sake.

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