Letras
My love is as a fever longing still
For that which longer nurseth the disease
Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill
The uncertain sickly appetite to please
My reason, the physician to my love
Angry his prescriptions are not kept
Hath left me and I desperate now approve
Desire is death which physic did except
Past cure I am, now reason is past care
And frantic-mad with evermore unrest
My thoughts and my discourses madmen's are
At random from the truth vainly expressed
For I have sworn thee fair and thought thee bright
Who art as black as hell, as dark as night
Past cure I am, now reason is past care
And frantic-mad with evermore unrest
My thoughts and my discourses madmen's are
At random from the truth vainly expressed
For I have sworn thee fair and thought thee bright
Who art as black as hell, as dark as night
Yes, I have sworn thee fair and thought thee bright
Who art as black as hell, as dark as night