|Looking for ideas|
(Poem by ViennaCC)
Slandering creation with a false esteem:
For compound sweet forgoing simple savour,
Wrapp'd and confounded in a thousand fears,
That season'd woe had pelleted in tears,
That all love's pleasure shall not match his woe.
To those two armies that would let him go,
Do summon us to part and bid good night.
His other agents aim at like delight?
Cynthia for shame obscures her silver shine,
Had not his clouded with his brow's repine;
Of him, myself, and thee, I am forsaken;
And kissing speaks, with lustful language broken
Mine enemy was strong, my poor self weak,
What win I, if I gain the thing I seek?
Being mad before, how doth she now for wits?
These lovely caves, these round enchanting pits
But makes antiquity for aye his page,
Or some fierce thing replete with too much rage,
In vain I cavil with mine infamy,
Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy