Sonnet VIII: If I live on, dear Lady, in the void

If I live on, dear Lady, in the void
Caused by your absences, I seem to' offend
Him who adores you, and to discommend
The bliss that in your presence I enjoyed.
Soon by another thought am I annoyed--
If I of life despair, I forfeit too
The good I hope for in beholding you;
By ills so varying is my peace destroyed.
My feelings in this variance all take part
So fiercely, that I know not what decreed
Me to such grievances--I never look
On their dissensions without swift rebuke,
But night and day they war with nicest art.
And in my ruin are alone agreed.