From which I hurried as a beast from burning,
Nor cared in flying where my terror led;
Only beyond recall and past returning,
Nor now repent if then too far I fled.—
So long, dear life, as in my flesh thou reign’st
I will sin with thee rather than against,
Let me die living rather than live dead.
But neither is there human pleasure rarer
Than love’s renewal after long disdain,
Nor any touching tale for telling fairer