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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=396021" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Fie, Pleasure, Fie!</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">1 Fie pleasure, fie! thou cloyest me with delight,<br>2 Thou fill'st my mouth with sweetmeats overmuch;<br>3 I wallow still in joy both day and night:<br>4 I deem, I dream, I do, I taste, I touch,<br>5 No thing but all that smells of perfect bliss;<br>6 Fie pleasure, fie! I cannot like of this.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">7 To taste (sometimes) a bait of bitter gall,<br>8 To drink a draught of so{'u}r ale (some season)<br>9 To eat brown bread with homely hands in hall,<br>10 Doth much increase men's appetites, by reason,<br>11 And makes the sweet more sugar'd that ensues,<br>12 Since minds of men do still seek after news.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">13 The pamper'd horse is seldom seen in breath,<br>14 Whose manger makes his grace (oftimes) to melt;<br>15 The crammed fowl comes quickly to his death;<br>16 Such colds they catch in hottest haps that swelt;<br>17 And I (much like) in pleasure scawled still,<br>18 Do fear to starve although I feed my fill.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">19 It might suffice that Love hath built his bower<br>20 Between my lady's lively shining eyes;<br>21 It were enough that beauty's fading flower<br>22 Grows ever fresh with her in heavenly wise;<br>23 It had been well that she were fair of face,<br>24 And yet not rob all other dames of grace.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">25 To muse in mind, how wise, how fair, how good,<br>26 How brave, how frank, how courteous, and how true<br>27 My lady is, doth but inflame my blood<br>28 With humours such as bid my health adieu;<br>29 Since hap always when it is clomb on high,<br>30 Doth fall full low, though erst it reach'd the sky.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">31 Lo, pleasure, lo! lo thus I lead a life<br>32 That laughs for joy, and trembleth oft for dread;<br>33 Thy pangs are such as call for change's knife<br>34 To cut the twist, or else to stretch the thread,<br>35 Which holds yfeer the bundle of my bliss:<br>36 Fie, pleasure, fie! I dare not trust to this.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=George+Gascoigne">George Gascoigne</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=396021" data-title="Fie, Pleasure, Fie! de George Gascoigne" data-description="1 Fie pleasure, fie! thou cloyest me with delight,
2 Thou fill'st my mouth with sweetmeats overmuch;
3 I wallow still in joy both day and night:
4 I deem, I dream, I do, I taste, I touch,
5 No thing but all that smells of perfect bliss;
6 Fie plea..."></div>
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