Why this consuming wild desire,
This restless passion vague and strange?
That well I know I rave, 't is fire,
Yet plunge in its deceitful range.
Why do I dream of love and joy,
That I am sure a lie will prove?
Why where fantastic charms decoy,
Will thus my heart delirious move,
If soon it finds for meads and flowers,
But arid wastes and tangled thorns,
And soon a loathing rage overpowers
The mad or mournful love it scorns?
Flung as a rapid comet wide,
On ardent fancy's wings I flew,
Where'er my wayward mind espied
Or joys or triumphs to pursue.
I launched myself, in daring flight,
Beyond the world through heavenward space,
And found but doubt, and all so bright
That seem'd, illusive proved the chase.
Then on the earth I anxious sought
For virtue, glory, love sublime;
And my worn spirit found there nought
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JOSE DE ESPRONCEDA.
