SWeet is the Rose, but growes vpon a brere; <br />Sweet is the Iunipere, but sharpe his bough; <br />sweet is the Eglantine, but pricketh nere; <br />sweet is the firbloome, but his braunches rough. <br />Sweet is the Cypresse, but his rynd is tough, <br />sweet is the nut, but bitter is his pill; <br />sweet is the broome-flowre, but yet sowre enough; <br />and sweet is Moly, but his root is ill. <br />So euery sweet with soure is tempred still, <br />that maketh it be coueted the more: <br />for easie things that may be got at will, <br />most sorts of men doe set but little store. <br />Why then should I accoumpt of little paine, <br />that endlesse pleasure shall vnto me gaine.<br /><br />Edmund Spenser<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-xxvi/
