THe loue which me so cruelly tormenteth, <br />So pleasing is in my extreamest paine: <br />that all the more my sorrow it augmenteth, <br />the more I loue and doe embrace my bane. <br />Ne doe I wish (for wishing were but vaine) <br />to be acquit fro my continuall smart: <br />but ioy her thrall for euer to remayne, <br />and yield for pledge my poore captyued hart <br />The which that it from her may neuer start, <br />let her, yf please her, bynd with adamant chayne: <br />and from all wandring loues which mote peruart, <br />his safe assurance strongly it restrayne. <br />Onely let her abstaine from cruelty, <br />and doe me not before my time to dy.<br /><br />Edmund Spenser<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-xlii-2/
