XXIV.
In looking back unto my follies past;
While I the present, with times past compare,
And think how many hours I then did waste
Painting on clouds, and building in the air:
I sigh within myself, and say in sadness,
"This thing which fools call Love, is nought but Madness!"
XXV.
"The things we have, we most of all neglect;
And that we have not, greedily we crave.
The things we may have, little we respect;
And still we covet, that we cannot have.
Yet, howsoe'er, in our conceit, we prize them;
No sooner gotten, but we straight despise them."
XXVI.
Who seats his love upon a woman's will,
And thinks thereon to build a happy state;
Shall be deceived, when least he thinks of ill,
And rue his folly when it is too late.
He ploughs on sand, and sows upon the wind,
That hopes for constant love in Womankind.
XXVII.
I will no longer spend my time in toys!
Seeing Love is Error, Folly, and Offence;
An idle fit for fond and reckless boys,
Or else for men deprived of common sense.
'Twixt Lunacy and Love, these odds appear;
Th' one makes fools, monthly; th' other, all the year.
XXVIII.