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CXIX



What potions have I drunk of Siren tears,

Distill\'d from limbecks foul as hell within,

Applying fears to hopes, and hopes to fears,

Still losing when I saw myself to win!

What wretched errors hath my heart committed,

Whilst it hath thought itself so blessed never!

How have mine eyes out of their spheres been fitted,

In the distraction of this madding fever!

O benefit of ill! now I find true

That better is, by evil still made better;

And ruin\'d love, when it is built anew,

Grows fairer than at first, more strong, far greater.

  So I return rebuk\'d to my content,

  And gain by ill thrice more than I have spent.

 	--William Shakespeare

XXXV



No more be griev\'d at that which thou hast done:

Roses have thorns, and silver fountains mud:

Clouds and eclipses stain both moon and sun,

And loathsome canker lives in sweetest bud.

All men make faults, and even I in this,

Authorizing thy trespass with compare,

Myself corrupting, salving thy amiss,

Excusing thy sins more than thy sins are;

For to thy sensual fault I bring in sense,--

Thy adverse party is thy advocate,--

And \'gainst myself a lawful plea commence:

Such civil war is in my love and hate,

  That I an accessary needs must be,

  To that sweet thief which sourly robs from me.

 	--William Shakespeare

Insight: St. Augustine Quotes
People travel to wonder at the height of mountains, at the huge waves of the sea, at the long courses of rivers, at the vast
compass of the ocean, at the circular motion of the stars; and they pass by themselves without wondering.