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| <HTML><HEAD><TITLE>Sonnet CXLVII</TITLE></HEAD> | |
| <BODY><H1>Sonnet CXLVII</H1> | |
| <BLOCKQUOTE>My love is as a fever, longing still<BR> | |
| For that which longer nurseth the disease,<BR> | |
| Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill,<BR> | |
| The uncertain sickly appetite to please.<BR> | |
| My reason, the physician to my love,<BR> | |
| Angry that his prescriptions are not kept,<BR> | |
| Hath left me, and I desperate now approve<BR> | |
| Desire is death, which physic did except.<BR> | |
| Past cure I am, now reason is past care,<BR> | |
| And frantic-mad with evermore unrest;<BR> | |
| My thoughts and my discourse as madmen's are,<BR> | |
| At random from the truth vainly express'd;<BR> | |
| For I have sworn thee fair and thought thee bright,<BR> | |
| Who art as black as hell, as dark as night.<BR> | |
| </BLOCKQUOTE> | |
| </BODY></HTML> | |