The fruit of all the service that I serve Despair doth reap, such hapless hap have I. But though he have no power to make me swerve, Yet, by the fire, for cold I feel I die. In paradise, for hunger still I sterve; And, in the flood, for thirst to death I dry. So Tantalus am I, and in worse pain Amids my help, and helpless doth remain. |