If you see my beloved, tell him that I am sick of love

“Now as they walked in this land, they had more rejoicing than in parts more remote from the kingdom to which they were bound; and drawing near to the City, they had yet a more perfect view thereof: It was builded of pearls and precious stones; also the streets thereof were paved with Gold, so that by reason of the natural glory of the City, and the reflection of the sun-beams upon it, Christian with desire fell sick; Hopeful also had a fit or two of the same disease: wherefore here they lay by it a while, crying out because of their pangs; If you see my Beloved, tell him that I am sick of love.”

*Pilgrim’s Progress (179)

 

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