Love is a sickness
Lyricist: Samuel Daniel,
Settings by composers
Texts and Translations
Love is a sickness full of woes,
All remedies refusing;
A plant that most with1 cutting grows,
Most barren with best using,
More we enjoy it, more it dies;
If not enjoy'd it sighing cries
Heigh ho! Heigh ho!
Love is a torment of the mind,
A tempest everlasting;
And Jove hath made it of2 a kind
Not well, nor full, nor fasting.
1 Original is "with most"
2 Original is "of it"