Poem by 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 enjoyed, it sighting cries,
Heigh ho!

Love is a torment of the mind,
A tempest everlasting;
And Jove hath made it of a kind
Not well, not full, nor fasting.
Why so?
More we enjoy it, more it dies;
If not enjoyed, it sighing cries,
Heigh ho! 

1. Are They Shadows
2. Delia 36. But Love Whilst that thou Mayst be Loved Again
3. Delia 31. Look, Delia, how We 'steem the Half-blown Rose
4. Delia 1. Unto the Bboundless Ocean of thy Beauty
5. Delia 6. Fair is my Love, and Cruel as She's Fair

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