~Edmund Spenser (1552/1553-1599)
Sweet is the rose, but grows upon
a brere;
Sweet is the juniper, but sharp
is the bough;
Sweet is the eglantine, but
pricketh near;
Sweet is the fir-bloom, but his
branch is rough;
Sweet is the cypress, but his
rind is tough;
Sweet is the nut, but bitter is
his pill;
Sweet is the broom-flower, but
yet sour enough:
And sweet is moly, but his root
is ill.
So every sweet with sour is temp’red
still,
That maketh it be coveted the
more:
For easy things, that may be got
at will,
Most sorts of men do set but
little store.
Why then should I account of little pain
That endless pleasure shall unto me gain!
very nice ~
ReplyDeleteFWIW - if ever again I post a month of poetry selections, I think I will choose a month other than April. I just finished listening to a book in which the author quoted a variety of poets, but none suited my fancy, although I enjoyed the novel quite a bit.