LOVE'S LOADSTONE.
Non so se s' é l' immaginata luce.
I know not if it be the fancied light
   Which every man or more or less doth feel;
   Or if the mind and memory reveal
   Some other beauty for the heart's delight;
Or if within the soul the vision bright
   Of her celestial home once more doth steal,
   Drawing our better thoughts with pure appeal
   To the true Good above all mortal sight:
This light I long for and unguided seek;
   This fire that burns my heart, I cannot find;
   Nor know the way, though some one seems to lead.
This, since I saw thee, lady, makes me weak:
   A bitter-sweet sways here and there my mind;
   And sure I am thine eyes this mischief breed.
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