Classic Poem

Pace no Trovo, et non ho da far guerra

I joy not peace, where yet no war is found;
I fear and hope, I burn, yet freeze withal:
I mount to heaven, yet lie still on the ground;
I nothing hold, [and] yet I compass all.
I live her bond, which neither is my foe,
Nor friend, nor holds me fast, nor lets me go.

Love will not that I live, nor let me die;
Nor locks me fast, nor suffers me to 'scape:
I want both eyes and tongue, yet see and cry;
I wish for death, yet after help I gape:
I hate myself, yet love another wight,
And feed on grief in lieu of sweet delight.

At self-same time I both lament and joy;
I still am pleased, and yet displeased still:
Love sometimes seems a god, sometimes a boy;
Sometimes I sink, sometimes I swim at will:
'Twixt death and life small difference I make:
All this, dear Dame, endure I for thy sake.