Love Is A Sickness Poem by Thomas Lodge

Love Is A Sickness

Rating: 2.4


Love is a sickness full of woes,
All remedies refusing;
A plant that with most cutting grows,
Most barren with best using.
Why so?
More we enjoy it, more it dies;
If not enjoyed, it sighing cries,
Hey ho.
Love is a torment of the mind,
A tempest everlasting;
And Jove hath made it of a kind,
Not well, nor full nor fasting.
Why so?
More we enjoy it, more it dies;
If not enjoyed, it sighing cries,
Hey ho.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
swathi 04 February 2018

Pls give summary for this poem love is a sickness

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Purple Ellifant 05 July 2006

This is incorrect this poem is by Samuel Daniel (1562-1619)

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