Give me peace, o my jarring thoughts.
Is it not enough that Love, Fate, and Death
Wage war all about me, and at my very gates,
Without finding other enemies within?
And you, my heart, are you as still as you were?
Disloyal to me alone; for you harbor fierce spies,
And have allied yourself
With my enemies, bold as they are
In you Love reveals his secret messages,
In you Fate boasts all her triumphs,
And Death awakens the memory of that blow
Which must surely destroy all that remains of me;
In you gentle thoughts arm themselves with lies:
Wherefore I charge you alone guilty of all my ills.