I would do well--to me 'tis not allowed. With me my sun is not, although I be with him, For being with him, I'm no more with myself: The farther from myself--the nearer unto him; The nearer unto him, the farther from myself. Once to enjoy, doth cost me many tears, And seeking happiness, I meet with woe. For that I look aloft, so blind am I. That I may gain my love, I lose myself. Through bitter joy, and through sweet pain, Weighted with lead, I rise towards the sky. Necessity withholds, goodness conducts me on, Fate sinks me down, and counsel raises me, Desire spurs me, fear keeps me in check. Care kindles and the peril backward draws. Tell me, what power or what subterfuge Can give me peace and bring me from this strife, If one repels, the other draws me on. The ascension goes on in the soul through the power and appulsion in the wings, which are the intellect, or intellectual will upon which she naturally depends and through which she fixes her gaze toward God, as to the highest good, and primal truth, as to absolute goodness and beauty. Thus everything has an impetus towards its beginning retrogressively, and progressively towards its end and perfection, as Empedocles well said, and from which sentence I think may be inferred that which the Nolan said in this octave: The sun must turn and reach his starting-point, Each wandering light must go towards its source, That which is earth to earth itself reverts, The rivers from the sea to sea return, And thither, whence desires have life and grow Must they aspire as to revered divinity, So every thought born of my lady fair Comes back perforce to her, my goddess dear.