The Sonnets CXIX - What potions have I drunk of Siren tears
By William Shakespeare
What potions have I drunk of Siren tears,
Distilld 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 ruind love, when it is built anew,
Grows fairer than at first, more strong, far greater.
So I return rebukd to my content,
And gain by ill thrice more than I have spent.