The Sonnets Of Michael Angelo Buonarroti And Tommaso Campanella Part 7

_Se l'immortal desio._

If the undying thirst that purifies Our mortal thoughts, could draw mine to the day, Perchance the lord who now holds cruel sway In Love's high house, would prove more kindly-wise.

But since the laws of heaven immortalise Our souls, and doom our flesh to swift decay, Tongue cannot tell how fair, how pure as day, Is the soul's thirst that far beyond it lies.

How then, ah woe is me! shall that chaste fire, Which burns the heart within me, be made known, If sense finds only sense in what it sees?

All my fair hours are turned to miseries With my loved lord, who minds but lies alone; For, truth to tell, who trusts not is a liar.

x.x.xVII.

_PERHAPS TO VITTORIA COLONNA._

_LOVE'S SERVITUDE._

_S' alcun legato e pur._

He who is bound by some great benefit, As to be raised from death to life again, How shall he recompense that gift, or gain Freedom from servitude so infinite?

Yet if 'twere possible to pay the debt, He'd lose that kindness which we entertain For those who serve us well; since it is plain That kindness needs some boon to quicken it.

Wherefore, O lady, to maintain thy grace, So far above my fortune, what I bring Is rather thanklessness than courtesy: For if both met as equals face to face, She whom I love could not be called my king;-- There is no lordship in equality.

x.x.xVIII.

_LOVE'S VAIN EXPENSE._

_Rendete a gli occhi miei._

Give back unto mine eyes, ye fount and rill, Those streams, not yours, that are so full and strong, That swell your springs, and roll your waves along With force unwonted in your native hill!

And thou, dense air, weighed with my sighs so chill, That hidest heaven's own light thick mists among, Give back those sighs to my sad heart, nor wrong My visual ray with thy dark face of ill!

Let earth give back the footprints that I wore, That the bare gra.s.s I spoiled may sprout again; And Echo, now grown deaf, my cries return!

Loved eyes, unto mine eyes those looks restore, And let me woo another not in vain, Since how to please thee I shall never learn!

x.x.xIX.

_LOVE'S ARGUMENT WITH REASON._

_La ragion meco si lamenta._

Reason laments and grieves full sore with me, The while I hope by loving to be blest; With precepts sound and true philosophy My shame she quickens thus within my breast: 'What else but death will that sun deal to thee-- Nor like the phoenix in her flaming nest?'

Yet nought avails this wise morality; No hand can save a suicide confessed.

I know my doom; the truth I apprehend: But on the other side my traitorous heart Slays me whene'er to wisdom's words I bend.

Between two deaths my lady stands apart: This death I dread; that none can comprehend.

In this suspense body and soul must part.

XL.

FIRST READING.

_LOVE'S LOADSTONE._

_No so s' e la desiata luce._

I know not if it be the longed-for light Of her first Maker which the spirit feels; Or if a time-old memory reveals Some other beauty for the heart's delight; Or fame or dreams beget that vision bright, Sweet to the eyes, which through the bosom steals, Leaving I know not what that wounds and heals, And now perchance hath made me weep outright.

Be this what this may be, 'tis this I seek: Nor guide have I; nor know I where to find That burning fire; yet some one seems to lead.

This, since I saw thee, lady, makes me weak; A bitter-sweet sways here and there my mind, And sure I am thine eyes this mischief breed.

XL.

SECOND READING.

_LOVE'S LOADSTONE._

_Non so se s' e l' immaginata luce._

I know not if it be the fancied light Which every man or more or less doth feel; Or if the mind and memory reveal Some other beauty for the heart's delight;

Or if within the soul the vision bright Of her celestial home once more doth steal, Drawing our better thoughts with pure appeal To the true Good above all mortal sight:

This light I long for and unguided seek; This fire that burns my heart, I cannot find; Nor know the way, though some one seems to lead.

This, since I saw thee, lady, makes me weak: A bitter-sweet sways here and there my mind; And sure I am thine eyes this mischief breed.

XLI.

_LIGHT AND DARKNESS._

_Colui che fece._

He who ordained, when first the world began, Time, that was not before creation's hour, Divided it, and gave the sun's high power To rule the one, the moon the other span: Thence fate and changeful chance and fortune's ban Did in one moment down on mortals shower: To me they portioned darkness for a dower; Dark hath my lot been since I was a man.