XXIII. Finding those beams, which I must ever love

Sir Philip Sidney (1554–1586)

FINDING those beams, which I must ever love,

To mar my mind; and with my hurt, to please:

I deemed it best some absence for to prove,

If further place might further me to ease.

My eyes thence drawn, where lived all their light,

Blinded, forthwith in dark despair did lie:

Like to the mole, with want of guiding sight,

Deep plunged in earth, deprivèd of the sky.

In absence blind, and wearied with that woe;

To greater woes, by presence, I return:

Even as the fly, which to the flame doth go;

Pleased with the light, that his small corse doth burn,

Fair choice I have, either to live or die;

A blindèd mole, or else a burnèd fly!