The Sonnets, Triumphs, and Other Poems of Petrarch Part 52

SONNET Cx.x.xIV.

_Quando Amor i begli occhi a terra inchina._

LAURA SINGS.

If Love her beauteous eyes to earth incline, And all her soul concentring in a sigh, Then breathe it in her voice of melody, Floating clear, soft, angelical, divine; My heart, forth-stolen so gently, I resign, And, all my hopes and wishes changed, I cry,-- "Oh, may my last breath pa.s.s thus blissfully, If Heaven so sweet a death for me design!"

But the rapt sense, by such enchantment bound, And the strong will, thus listening to possess Heaven's joys on earth, my spirit's flight delay.

And thus I live; and thus drawn out and wound Is my life's thread, in dreamy blessedness, By this sole syren from the realms of day.

DACRE.

Her bright and love-lit eyes on earth she bends-- Concentres her rich breath in one full sigh-- A brief pause--a fond hush--her voice on high, Clear, soft, angelical, divine, ascends.

Such rapine sweet through all my heart extends, New thoughts and wishes so within me vie, Perforce I say,--"Thus be it mine to die, If Heaven to me so fair a doom intends!"

But, ah! those sounds whose sweetness laps my sense, The strong desire of more that in me yearns, Restrain my spirit in its parting hence.

Thus at her will I live; thus winds and turns The yarn of life which to my lot is given, Earth's single siren, sent to us from heaven.

MACGREGOR.

SONNET Cx.x.xV.

_Amor mi manda quel dolce pensero._

LIFE WILL FAIL HIM BEFORE HOPE.

Love to my mind recalling that sweet thought, The ancient confidant our lives between, Well comforts me, and says I ne'er have been So near as now to what I hoped and sought.

I, who at times with dangerous falsehood fraught, At times with partial truth, his words have seen, Live in suspense, still missing the just mean, 'Twixt yea and nay a constant battle fought.

Meanwhile the years pa.s.s on: and I behold In my true gla.s.s the adverse time draw near Her promise and my hope which limits here.

So let it be: alone I grow not old; Changes not e'en with age my loving troth; My fear is this--the short life left us both.

MACGREGOR.

SONNET Cx.x.xVI.

_Pien d' un vago pensier, che me desvia._

HIS TONGUE IS TIED BY EXCESS OF Pa.s.sION.

Such vain thought as wonted to mislead me In desert hope, by well-a.s.sured moan, Makes me from company to live alone, In following her whom reason bids me flee.

She fleeth as fast by gentle cruelty; And after her my heart would fain be gone, But armed sighs my way do stop anon, 'Twixt hope and dread locking my liberty; Yet as I guess, under disdainful brow One beam of ruth is in her cloudy look: Which comforteth the mind, that erst for fear shook: And therewithal bolded I seek the way how To utter the smart I suffer within; But such it is, I not how to begin.

WYATT.

Full of a tender thought, which severs me From all my kind, a lonely musing thing, From my breast's solitude I sometimes spring, Still seeking her whom most I ought to flee; And see her pa.s.s though soft, so adverse she, That my soul spreads for flight a trembling wing: Of armed sighs such legions does she bring, The fair antagonist of Love and me.

Yet from beneath that dark disdainful brow, Or much I err, one beam of pity flows, Soothing with partial warmth my heart's distress: Again my bosom feels its wonted glow!

But when my simple hope I would disclose, My o'er-fraught faltering tongue the crowded thoughts oppress.

WRANGHAM.

SONNET Cx.x.xVII.

_Piu volte gia dal bel sembiante umano._

LOVE UNMANS HIS RESOLUTION.

Oft as her angel face compa.s.sion wore, With tears whose eloquence scarce fails to move, With bland and courteous speech, I boldly strove To soothe my foe, and in meek guise implore: But soon her eyes inspire vain hopes no more; For all my fortune, all my fate in love, My life, my death, the good, the ills I prove, To her are trusted by one sovereign power.

Hence 'tis, whene'er my lips would silence break, Scarce can I hear the accents which I vent, By pa.s.sion render'd spiritless and weak.

Ah! now I find that fondness to excess Fetters the tongue, and overpowers intent: Faint is the flame that language can express!

NOTT.

Oft have I meant my pa.s.sion to declare, When fancy read compliance in her eyes; And oft with courteous speech, with love-lorn sighs, Have wish'd to soften my obdurate fair: But let that face one look of anger wear, The intention fades; for all that fate supplies, Or good, or ill, all, all that I can prize, My life, my death, Love trusts to her dear care.

E'en I can scarcely hear my amorous moan, So much my voice by pa.s.sion is confined; So faint, so timid are my accents grown!

Ah! now the force of love I plainly see; What can the tongue, or what the impa.s.sion'd mind?

He that could speak his love, ne'er loved like me.

ANON. 1777.

SONNET Cx.x.xVIII.

_Giunto m' ha Amor fra belle e crude braccia._

HE CANNOT END HER CRUELTY, NOR SHE HIS HOPE.

Me Love has left in fair cold arms to lie, Which kill me wrongfully: if I complain, My martyrdom is doubled, worse my pain: Better in silence love, and loving die!

For she the frozen Rhine with burning eye Can melt at will, the hard rock break in twain, So equal to her beauty her disdain That others' pleasure wakes her angry sigh.

A breathing moving marble all the rest, Of very adamant is made her heart, So hard, to move it baffles all my art.

Despite her lowering brow and haughty breast, One thing she cannot, my fond heart deter From tender hopes and pa.s.sionate sighs for her.