Sonnet 118

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