Once did I love, but more than once repent;
When vintage came, my grapes were sour, or rotten.
Long time in grief and pensive thoughts I spent;
And all for that, which Time hath made forgotten.
O strange effects of time! which, once being lost,
Make men secure of that they lovèd most.
III.
Thus have I long in th'air of Error hovered,
And run my ship upon Repentance's shelf.
Truth hath the veil of Ignorance uncovered,
And made me see; and seeing, know myself.
Of former follies, now, I must repent,
And count this work, part of my time ill spent.
IV.
What thing is Love? "A tyrant of the Mind!"
"Begot by heat of Youth; brought forth by Sloth;
Nursed with vain Thoughts, and changing as the wind!"
"A deep Dissembler, void of faith and troth!"
"Fraught with fond errors, doubts, despite, disdain,
And all the plagues that earth and hell contain!"
V.
Like to a man that wanders all the day
Through ways unknown, to seek a thing of worth,
And, at the night, sees he hath gone astray;
As near his end, as when he first set forth:
Such is my case, whose hope untimely crost,
After long errors, proves my labour lost.
VI.
Failed of that hap, whereto my hope aspired,
Deprived of that which might have been mine own:
Another, now, must have what I desired;
And things too late, by their events are known.
Thus do we wish for that cannot be got;
And when it may, then we regard it not.