A description of Desire.

LEd by Desire, a thrall where freedome lyes,
Helde backe by witte, when fancie forward hales,
My greedie will, begiles my gasyng eyes:
Calde home from craft, yet caught in cunnyng stales,
Drawne from my self, and made to others call,
If daunger come, Desire is cause of all.

Prepard for flight, my wings are faste in Lyme,
I swimme in hope, and sincke with deepe consaite,
Deceiu'd by happ, yet learnd by losse of tyme:
To knowe the hooke, and yet must misse the baite,
But bound and ledde, a long by sweete Desire,
I scorche or burne, before I feele the fire.

Desire lackes sight, yet leades the sences blinde,
And wilfull Will, waites hard at Daungers heeles,
Good speede full leane, comes laggyng farre behinde:
Close harte saies nought, that all the sorrowe feeles,
So thus the man, to Death like captiue goes,
Ledde by Desire, that knowes not freends from foes.

Our life declares, Desire can take no reste,
In soundest sleepes, it keepes the minde awake,
It is a sprite, that closely creepes in breste:
A priuie thought, that Warres and Peace doeth make,
And whom it leads, it either throwes hym doune,
Or liftes hym vp, by happ to greate renowne.

The Soldiour builds, his hope on greate Desire,
The Marchant getts, his gaine and wealth thereby,
The trauelyng wight, it paies with noble
It heales the harte, that in Dispaire doeth lye,
And though some sparks, of vice flee from that flame,
A good Desire, maintaines a vertuous name.

Then blushe I not, to yeelde where force doeth faile,
Desire doeth daunt, the strong and stoutest minde,
Where Fancie rules, no wisedome can preuaile:
Striue not with streame, nor saile against the winde,
For when fine witte, hath doen the beste it maie,
Desire comes in, and leads the harte awaie.