The Triple Fool
- I am two fools, I know—
- For loving, and for saying so
- In whining poetry;
- But where’s that wiseman that would not be I,
- If she would not deny?
- Then, as th’ earths inward narrow crooked lanes
- Do purge sea waters fretful salt away,
- I thought, if I could draw my pains
- Through rhymes vexation, I should them allay.
- Grief brought to numbers cannot be so fierce,
- For he tames it that fetters it in verse.
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- But when I have done so,
- Some man, his art and voice to show,
- Doth set and sing my pain,
- And, by delighting many, frees again
- Grief, which verse did restrain.
- To Love and Grief tribute of verse belongs,
- But not of such as pleases when ’tis read;
- Both are increased by such songs,
- For both their triumphs so are published;
- And I, which was two fooles, do so grow three;
- Who are a little wise, the best fools be.
From: Songs and Sonnets, 1633.
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