Drayton, Michael: The paradox

When first I ended, then I first began;

Then more I travelled further from my rest.

Where most I lost, there most of all I won,

Pined with hunger, rising from a feast.

Methinks I fly, yet want I legs to go;

Wise in conceit, in act a very sot;

Ravished with joy amidst a hell of woe;

What most I seem, that surest I am not.

I build my hopes a world above the sky,

Yet with the mole I creep into the earth;

In plenty, I am starved with penury,

And yet I surfeit in the greatest dearth.

   I have, I want; despair, and yet desire;

   Burned in a sea of ice, and drowned amidst a fire.