Thou blind man's mark

Thou blind man's mark, thou fool's self-chosen snare, 
Fond fancy's scum, and dregs of scattered thought ; 
Band of all evils, cradle of causeless care ; 
Thou web of will, whose end is never wrought ; 
Desire, desire !  I have too dearly bought, 
With price of mangled mind, thy worthless ware ; 
Too long, too long, asleep thou hast me brought, 
Who shouldst my mind to higher things prepare.
But yet in vain thou hast my ruin sought ; 
In vain thou madest me to vain things aspire ; 
In vain thou kindlest all thy smoky fire ; 
For virtue hath this better lesson taught,—
Within myself to seek my only hire, 
Desiring nought but how to kill desire.   

Sir Philip Sydney