Sonet 6

Hvge hosts of thoughts imbattled in my brest, Are euer busied with intestine warres, And like to Cadmus earth-borne troupes at iarres, Haue spoil'd my soule of peace, themselues of rest. Thus forc'd to reape such seed as I haue sowne, I (hauing interest in this doubtfull strife) Hope much, feare more, doubt most, vnhappie life. What euer side preuaile, I'm still orethrowne: O neither life nor death! ô both, but bad Imparadiz'd, whiles in mine owne conceit, My fancies straight againe imbroyle my state, And in a moment make me glad and sad. Thus neither yeelding quite to this nor that, I liue, I die, I do I wot not what.