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The basilisk his nature takes from thee,
Who for my life in secret wait dost lie,
And to my heart sendst poison from thine eye:
Thus do I feel the pain, the cause, yet cannot see.

— Michael Drayton

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More quotes by Michael Drayton

Ill news hath wings, and with the wind doth go,
Comfort’s a cripple and comes ever slow.

The Barons' Wars (1603)

The mind is free, whate’er afflict the man,
A King’s a King, do Fortune what she can.

The Barons' Wars (1603)

That shire which we the Heart of England well may call.

For that fine madness still he did retain
Which rightly should possess a poet’s brain.

Crave the tuneful nightingale to help you with her lay,
The ousel and the throstlecock, chief music of our May.

The Shepherd’s Garland (1593)

All Michael Drayton quotes →

Attribution

Quote text and notes from Wikiquote: Michael Drayton (page history), available under CC BY-SA 4.0. Source quality and labels are our own summary of what Wikiquote records.