From a translation of Chaucer's Troilus and Criseyde
A soil that nurtures weeds and poisonous stuff
Brings forth these herbs of healing just as oft.
Next to the foulest nettle, thick and rough,
Rises the rose in sweetness, smooth and soft;
And next to the valleys rise hills aloft,
And next the dark of night the glad tomorrow;
And joy is on the borderland of sorrow.
Brings forth these herbs of healing just as oft.
Next to the foulest nettle, thick and rough,
Rises the rose in sweetness, smooth and soft;
And next to the valleys rise hills aloft,
And next the dark of night the glad tomorrow;
And joy is on the borderland of sorrow.