from
Urania
by Lady Mary Wroth
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The sun hath no long journey now to go,
   While I a progress have in my desires;
   Disasters dead-low-water-like do show
   The sand, that overlooked my hoped-for hires.

Thus I remain like one that's laid in briars,
   Where turning brings new pain and certain woe, 
   Like one, once burned, bids me avoid the fires, 
   But love, true fire, will not let me be slow.

Obedience, fear and love do all conspire 
   A worthless conquest gained to ruin me, 
   Who did but feel the height of blest desire
   When danger, doubt and loss I straight did see. 
Restless I live, consulting what to do, 
And more I study, more I still undo.
 

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Source:
Wroth, Lady Mary. Poems. R. E. Pritchard, Ed.
Staffordshire, England: Keele University Press, 1996. 134.

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