Sonnet 119. What potions have I drunk of Siren tears

What potions have I drunk of Siren tears

Distilled from limbecks foul as hell within

Applying fears to hopes, and hopes to fears

Still losing when I saw my self to win!

What wretched errors hath my heart committed

Whilst it hath thought it self so blessed never!

How have mine eyes out of their spheres been fitted

In the distraction of this madding fever!