The rills of pleasure never run sincere, (Earth has no unpolluted spring;) From the cursd soil some dangrous taint they bear; So roses grow on thorns, and honey wears a sting. Dr. Watts.Lyric Poems, Earth and Heaven, Line 9.
Life has its bliss for these when past its bloom, As witherd roses yield a late perfume. Shenstone.The Judgment of Hercules, Line 426. Dr. Watts.The Rose, Verse 2.