With briars and thorns, to raze and prick the same;
Sometime with nettles of Desire to sting it;
Sometime with pincons[11] of Despair to wring it;
Sometime again, he would anoint the sore,
And heal the place that he had hurt before:
But hurtful helps! and ministered in vain!
Which servèd only to renew my pain.
For, after that, more wounds he added still,
Which piercèd deep, but had no power to kill.
Unhappy medicine! which, instead of cure,