Wittes Pilgrimage, Sonnet 13

FOrbidden-Hopes, the Heauens of my Hell,
O ceasse your Heau'nly-Hellish Regiment:
My Hart (the Hellish Heau'n wherein you dwell)
You rule at once with ioy, and Dryryment!
Sith Contradictions ye do then maintaine
And that they Reas'n resist that suche defend,
Then ô part not my single Hart in twayne,
To make it double, for this double end.
The ioyes you yeeld, are forg'd but by Conciete;
The griefes you giue haue euer reall byn:
Your pleasures are accomplisht by Deile;
Which, with their ending, endlesse Woes begin:
Sith endlesse Woes your ending pleasures giue,
Dy, dy (damn'd Hopes) and let me die to liue.