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  • Artist Info: Sonnet 147:<br />
    <br />
    My love is as a fever longing still, <br />
    For that which longer nurseth the disease; <br />
    Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill, <br />
    The uncertain sickly appetite to please. <br />
    My reason, the physician to my love, <br />
    Angry that his prescriptions are not kept, <br />
    Hath left me, and I desperate now approve <br />
    Desire is death, which physic did except. <br />
    Past cure I am, now Reason is past care, <br />
    And frantic-mad with evermore unrest; <br />
    My thoughts and my discourse as madmen's are, <br />
    At random from the truth vainly expressed; <br />
    For I have sworn thee fair, and thought thee bright, <br />
    Who art as black as hell, as dark as night.    <br />
    <br />
    Shakespeare~
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