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Poem	SONNET CLXXXV. Qual mio destin, qual forza o qual inganno. THOUGH HER EYES DESTROY HIM, HE CANNOT TEAR HIMSELF AWAY. What destiny of mine, what fraud or force,Unarm'd again conducts me to the field,Where never came I but with shame to yield'Scape I or fall, which better is or worse?[Pg 199]—Not worse, but better; from so sweet a sourceShine in my heart those lights, so bright reveal'dThe fatal fire, e'en now as then, which seal'dMy doom, though twenty years have roll'd their courseI feel death's messengers when those dear eyes,Dazzling me from afar, I see appear,And if on me they turn as she draw near,Love with such sweetness tempts me then and tries,Tell it I cannot, nor recall in sooth,For wit and language fail to reach the truth! Macgregor.
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