Nothing so difficult as a beginning

In poesy, unless perhaps the end;

For oftentimes when Pegasus seems winning

The race, he sprains a wing, and down we tend,

Like Lucifer when hurled from Heaven for sinning;

Our sin the same, and hard as his to mend,

Being Pride, ³¹ which leads the mind to soar too far,

Till our own weakness shows us what we are.