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Sonnet CXVIII
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| Like as, to make our appetites more keen, | 1
| With eager compounds we our palate urge, | 2
| As, to prevent our maladies unseen, | 3
| We sicken to shun sickness when we purge, | 4
| Even so, being tuff of your ne'er-cloying sweetness, | 5
| To bitter sauces did I frame my feeding | 6
| And, sick of welfare, found a kind of meetness | 7
| To be diseased ere that there was true needing. | 8
| Thus policy in love, to anticipate | 9
| The ills that were not, grew to faults assured | 10
| And brought to medicine a healthful state | 11
| Which, rank of goodness, would by ill be cured: | 12
| But thence I learn, and find the lesson true, | 13
| Drugs poison him that so fell sick of you. | 14
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