 | The Complete Works of Sir Philip Sidney |  |
[Thou blind mans marke, thou fooles selfe chosen snare]
Thou blind mans marke, thou fooles selfe chosen snare,
Fond fancies scum, and dregs of scattred thought,
Band of all evils, cradle of causelesse care,
Thou web of will, whose end is never wrought.
Fond fancies scum, and dregs of scattred thought,
Band of all evils, cradle of causelesse care,
Thou web of will, whose end is never wrought.
Desire, desire I have too dearely bought,
With prise of mangled mind thy worthlesse ware,
Too long, too long asleepe thou hast me brought,
Who should my mind to higher things prepare.
With prise of mangled mind thy worthlesse ware,
Too long, too long asleepe thou hast me brought,
Who should my mind to higher things prepare.
But yet in vaine thou hast my ruine sought,
In vaine thou madest me to vaine things aspire,
In vaine thou kindlest all thy smokie fire.
In vaine thou madest me to vaine things aspire,
In vaine thou kindlest all thy smokie fire.
For vertue hath this better lesson taught,
Within my selfe to seeke my onelie hire:
Desiring nought but how to kill desire.
Within my selfe to seeke my onelie hire:
Desiring nought but how to kill desire.
| The Complete Works of Sir Philip Sidney | |