A heart of flaming sulphur

A heart of flaming sulphur, flesh of tow,

Bones of dry wood, a soul without a guide

To curb the fiery will, the ruffling pride

Of fierce desires that from the passions flow;

A sightless mind that weak and lame doth go

Mid snare and pitfalls scattered far and wide

What wonder if the first chance brand

Applied to fuel massed like this should make it glow?

Add beauteous art, which brought with us from heaven,

Will conquer nature; so divine a power

Belongs to him who strives with every nerve.

If I was made for art, from childhood given

A prey for burning beauty to devour,

I blame the mistress I was born to serve.