The Sonnets, Triumphs, and Other Poems of Petrarch Part 38

_La.s.so! quante fiate Amor m' a.s.sale._

WHEN LOVE DISTURBS HIM, HE CALMS HIMSELF BY THINKING OF THE EYES AND WORDS OF LAURA.

Alas! how ceaselessly is urged Love's claim, By day, by night, a thousand times I turn Where best I may behold the dear lights burn Which have immortalized my bosom's flame.

Thus grow I calm, and to such state am brought, At noon, at break of day, at vesper-bell, I find them in my mind so tranquil dwell, I neither think nor care beside for aught.

The balmy air, which, from her angel mien, Moves ever with her winning words and wise, Makes wheresoe'er she breathes a sweet serene As 'twere a gentle spirit from the skies, Still in these scenes some comfort brings to me, Nor elsewhere breathes my hara.s.s'd heart so free.

MACGREGOR.

SONNET Lx.x.xVII.

_Perseguendomi Amor al luogo usato._

HE IS BEWILDERED AT THE UNEXPECTED ARRIVAL OF LAURA.

As Love his arts in haunts familiar tried, Watchful as one expecting war is found, Who all foresees and guards the pa.s.ses round, I in the armour of old thoughts relied: Turning, I saw a shadow at my side Cast by the sun, whose outline on the ground I knew for hers, who--be my judgment sound-- Deserves in bliss immortal to abide.

I whisper'd to my heart, Nay, wherefore fear?

But scarcely did the thought arise within Than the bright rays in which I burn were here.

As thunders with the lightning-flash begin, So was I struck at once both blind and mute, By her dear dazzling eyes and sweet salute.

MACGREGOR.

SONNET Lx.x.xVIII.

_La donna che 'l mio cor nel viso porta._

HER KIND AND GENTLE SALUTATION THRILLS HIS HEART WITH PLEASURE.

She, in her face who doth my gone heart wear, As lone I sate 'mid love-thoughts dear and true, Appear'd before me: to show honour due, I rose, with pallid brow and reverent air.

Soon as of such my state she was aware, She turn'd on me with look so soft and new As, in Jove's greatest fury, might subdue His rage, and from his hand the thunders tear.

I started: on her further way she pa.s.s'd Graceful, and speaking words I could not brook, Nor of her l.u.s.trous eyes the loving look.

When on that dear salute my thoughts are cast, So rich and varied do my pleasures flow, No pain I feel, nor evil fear below.

MACGREGOR.

[Ill.u.s.tration: SOLITUDES OF VAUCLUSE.]

SONNET Lx.x.xIX.

_Sennuccio, i' vo' che sappi in qual maniera._

HE RELATES TO HIS FRIEND SENNUCCIO HIS UNHAPPINESS, AND THE VARIED MOOD OF LAURA.

To thee, Sennuccio, fain would I declare, To sadden life, what wrongs, what woes I find: Still glow my wonted flames; and, though resign'd To Laura's fickle will, no change I bear.

All humble now, then haughty is my fair; Now meek, then proud; now pitying, then unkind: Softness and tenderness now sway her mind; Then do her looks disdain and anger wear.

Here would she sweetly sing, there sit awhile, Here bend her step, and there her step r.e.t.a.r.d; Here her bright eyes my easy heart ensnared; There would she speak fond words, here lovely smile; There frown contempt;--such wayward cares I prove By night, by day; so wills our tyrant Love!

ANON. 1777.

Alas, Sennuccio! would thy mind could frame What now I suffer! what my life's drear reign; Consumed beneath my heart's continued pain, At will she guides me--yet am I the same.

Now humble--then doth pride her soul inflame; Now harsh--then gentle; cruel--kind again; Now all reserve--then borne on frolic's vein; Disdain alternates with a milder claim.

Here once she sat, and there so sweetly sang; Here turn'd to look on me, and lingering stood; There first her beauteous eyes my spirit stole: And here she smiled, and there her accents rang, Her speaking face here told another mood.

Thus Love, our sovereign, holds me in control.

WOLLASTON.

SONNET XC.

_Qui dove mezzo son, Sennuccio mio._

THE MERE SIGHT OF VAUCLUSE MAKES HIM FORGET ALL THE PERILS OF HIS JOURNEY.

Friend, on this spot, I life but half endure (Would I were wholly here and you content), Where from the storm and wind my course I bent, Which suddenly had left the skies obscure.

Fain would I tell--for here I feel me sure-- Why lightnings now no fear to me present; And why unmitigated, much less spent, E'en as before my fierce desires allure.

Soon as I reach'd these realms of love, and saw Where, sweet and pure, to life my Laura came, Who calms the air, at rest the thunder lays; Love in my soul, where she alone gives law, Quench'd the cold fear and kindled the fast flame; What were it then on her bright eyes to gaze!

MACGREGOR.

SONNET XCI.

_Dell' empia Babilonia, ond' e fuggita._

LEAVING ROME, HE DESIRES ONLY PEACE WITH LAURA AND PROSPERITY TO COLONNA.

Yes, out of impious Babylon I'm flown, Whence flown all shame, whence banish'd is all good, That nurse of error, and of guilt th' abode, To lengthen out a life which else were gone: There as Love prompts, while wandering alone, I now a garland weave, and now an ode; With him I commune, and in pensive mood Hope better times; this only checks my moan.

Nor for the throng, nor fortune do I care, Nor for myself, nor sublunary things, No ardour outwardly, or inly springs: I ask two persons only: let my fair For me a kind and tender heart maintain; And be my friend secure in his high post again.