Beauty is but a painted hell

A poem by one of my most favorite poets .

Beauty Is But A Painted Hell
by Thomas Campion

Beauty is but a painted hell :
        Aye me, aye me,
Shee wounds them that admire it,
Shee kils them that desire it.
        Giue her pride but fuell,
        No fire is more cruell.

Pittie from eu'ry heart is fled :
        Aye me, aye me,
Since false desire could borrow
Teares of dissembled sorrow,
        Constant vowes turn truthlesse,
        Loue cruele, Beauty ruthlesse.

Sorrow can laugh, and Fury sing :
        Aye me, aye me,
My rauing griefes discouer
I liu'd too true a louer :
        The first step to madnesse
        Is the excesse of sadnesse.

(year:1620, poem, song)