Wittes Pilgrimage, Sonnet 95

FInding my selfe (before I would be found)
Neer lost in Laborinths of haplesse loue,
I got me to a melancholy groue
To desant on Loues-griefs to heauy Ground:
Where whilft I coucht me to performe the same,
The Flies, and Gnats, without still vexed me;
And Grief, within, as busy as a Bee.
Vnto my treble grief, made double game:
So, while I sought to descant on my Harmes,
My Harms did descant on That which I sought:
For, while I thought on't I was vext in thought;
And, in my Flesh afflicted with thefe Swarms:
Then thought I Louers were like idle Drones.
Whom Stingers follow, to augment their mones.