Of joys and pleasing pains

Of joys and pleasing pains I late went singing,
O joys with pains! O pains with joys consenting!
And little thought as then of now repenting;
But now think of my then sweet bitter stinging,
All day long I my hands, alas! go wringing,
The baleful notes of which, my sad tormenting,
Are ruth and moan, frights, sobs, and loud lamenting,
From hills and dales, in my dull ears still ringing.

poem by John Wilbye
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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