Classic Poem

Finding those beames which I must euer loue,
To marre my minde, and with my hurt to please,
I deemd it best, some absence for to proue,
If farther place might further me to ease.
My eyes thence drawne where liued all their light,
Blinded forthwith in darke despaire did lye;
Like to the moule, with want of guiding sight,
Deep plung'd in earth, depriued of the skie.
In absence blind, and wearied with that woe,
To greater woes, by presence, I returne:
Euen as the flye which to the flame doth go,
Pleased with the light that his small corse doth burne.
Faire choice I haue, either to liue or dye:
A blinded moule, or else a burned flye.