Sonnet 10 - The weary traveller who tired sought

The weary traveller who tired sought

In places distant far, yet found no end

Of pain, or labour, nor his state to mend,

At last with joy is to his home back brought,

Finds not more ease, though he with joy be fraught,

When past is fear, content like souls ascend,

Than I, on whom new pleasures do descend,

Which now as high as first-born bliss is wrought;

He tired with his pains, I, with my mind;

He all content receives by ease of limbs;

I, greatest happiness that I do find

Belief for faith, while hope in pleasure swims;

Truth says 'twas wrong conceit bred my despite

Which once acknowledged, brings my heart's delight.