Al Cor Di Zolfo. A Heart Of Flaming Sulphur, Flesh Of Tow, Bones Of Dry Wood, A Soul Without A Guide To Curb The Fiery Will, The Ruffling Pride Of Fierce Desires That From The Passions Flow; A Sightless Mind That Weak And Lame Doth Go Mid Snares And Pitfalls Scattered Far And Wide;-- What Wonder If The First Chance Brand Applied To Fuel Massed Like This Should Make It Glow? Add Beauteous Art, Which, Brought With Us From Heaven, Will Conquer Nature;--So Divine A Power Belongs To Him Who Strives With Every Nerve. If I Was Made For Art, From Childhood Given A Prey For Burning Beauty To Devour, I Blame The Mistress I Was Born To Serve.