WHEREIN HE LIKENS HIMSELF TO A MOTH

Creatures there are of such a glittering sight
It is its own defence against the sun;
Others that hide until the day is done,
Lest they be blinded with excess of light;
And others still whom brightness will excite
To madness, and inflame them till they run
Headlong into the heat! And such an one
Alas! am I, consumed in fiery flight.
For I have not the strength that can withstand
The dazzling light of Laura, nor discern
In darkness and descending hours a hand
To halt my doom: wherefore with eyes unmann'd
By tears, my fate compels me still to yearn
For her whom I must follow while I burn!