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Had seen the beauteous sovereign of my heart,
A semblance true; not one, like us, whose soul
THE SAME SUBJECT.
WHEN Simon first the precious work design'd,
The senseless form endued with voice and mind!
My sighs less frequent I had joy'd to find,
She bears a countenance to peace inclined:
SENNUCCIO, let me tell thee how, kind friend,
Here spoke, or smiled, as I stood wondering near; Or changed her air-with such reflections fill'd, Love day and night torments his hapless slave.
HIS REASON FOR LOVING LAURA AT THIRTY,
WHEN HER BEAUTY WAS IMPAIRED.
HER golden locks were in the wind display'd, That blew them round a thousand graceful ways, While in her eyes an undiminish'd blaze
Still beam'd; though now by Time less vivid made; And pity, as I thought, her looks display'd,
But know not if, as true, it tempted praise:
That Youth then fired my bosom, can it raise
In any wonder, with such fuel's aid?
'Twas not the motion of a mortal's form,
But something heavenly, and her speech's sound
Unlike to what we hear on earth below.
'Twas some pure spirit; a bright sun, around
Appearing then to beam its influence warm; Nor can it heal the wound to unstring the bow.*
ON PETRARCH'S PICKING UP A GLOVE LAURA
HAD DROPPED AT AN ASSEMBLY, AND WHICH
O BEAUTEOUS hand, that robb'st me of my heart,
This line was chosen, a century afterwards, for his motto, by a king of Naples, on his queen's death. "Le roi Rène apres la mort d'Isabeau de Lorraine, "sa première femme, prit cette devise:
"Un arc turquois avec la corde rompue, et le dernier "vers de ce sonnet :
Piaga per allentar d'arco non sana."
MEM. DE PETRARQUE.
Conspicuous, givest to killing fingers grace,
Know, Love consents my eager eyes should trace
Thou snowy, fair embroider'd, graceful glove,
I have possess'd the treasure-yet resign.
A SOLITARY life I ever sought,
(The fields, the woods, and rivers know it well,)
About the time of Petrarch's birth, his family was driven from Florence by an army of the French under