Darkness cannot conceal her, round about
Her candle shines, no winds can blow it out.
Sometimes she flies as though she did desire
Those that pass by to observe her fire;
Which being nearer, seem to be as great,
As sparks that fly when smiths hot iron beat.
When Pluto ravish’d Proserpine, that rape,
For she was waiting on her, chang’d her shape,
And since that time, she flyeth in the night
Seeking her out with torch and candle light.[172]