Where the wild hills around my river swell,
Sorga, * that nurses sad poetic thought;
But Fortune, always adverse to my views,
Keeps me where, uninspired, I sing, and grieve
To see my treasure, in the mire is thrown.t
Yet late my hand was destined not to lose
Its labour, but its full‡ reward receive,
By Love, and by myself, and Laura, known.

Philip le Bel, by whom it was proscribed, as well as, among many others, the great Dante. Petrarch, at seven months old, was carried across the Arno, as Camilla was carried by Metabus, according to Virgil.

* He had by this time, as is here seen, established himself at Vaucluse; the fountain of which has been poetically described on the spot by Sir William Jones, in his Elegy on Laura. See his Poems.

† Meaning Laura in the vicious city of Avignon.
‡ Alla man' ond' io scrivo, è fatta amica
A questa volta: e non è forse indegno:
Amor sel vide, e sal Madonna, ed io.

I have translated this unintelligible passage conformably to the idea of its general meaning, suggested by the author of the Memoires de Petrarque; supposing that Laura had condescended to shake hands with her lover.

Lakes, cool mamed spring,

Where her mos she often laved

*

• The author of the Memoires argues very well 10 prove, that it was not the foumain of Vaucluse, as it was thought probably in the time Sir Willum Jones wansaned the one with this option. Asus, therefore, was. I believe, in his youth, it gives me a beter excuse for translating it fer ham, as supposing in some few pars, however beautiful the rest, a war of absolume perfection; for, in transacing th

give the translation escore of a fine na of men weer. fuge of me cal

it seemed to me not work wil a mise to the original soring, in orter to suggest the That the reader may complete ness of Vired by Sir Wham Jones, in speaking of this, I refer in the notes of the Memoires de Petrarque, Vol. II.

Whom only I acknowledge fair;
Boughs, that to remembrance bring
Sadly, bending as ye waved,
How her reclining form ye bare;
Turf, and worthiest to wear,

Flowers that, plucking, she disposed,

O'er her robe and bosom seen;

Air, celestially serene,

Where Love my wounds afresh unclosed;
O attend while I complain

Assembled here, to my last dying strain.

If, while I with Love apace

Pine, Heaven still, unpitying, choose
To see me victim proved of Grief,
Do not, in this haunt, a place
To my ashes cold refuse.
Death half defeating, the belief
That they here shall rest, relief,
At his awful hour, will yield.
Here possess'd of Peace, in port
Mariners sea-wearied court,

1

Preserve them, by some stone reveal'd,
Sad remains of one whom woes

Had harass'd once, but left in safe repose.

Haply to her favourite spot

May the cruel fair return,

On whom all hopes I cherish rest;
And, astonish'd, then my lot,
Casting round her eyes, discern,
Where I that day, for ever bless'd,
Hail'd entranced: O then her breast
Love or Pity sure will touch,
And the soft, escaping sigh
Heard, to Heaven shall plead on high
For my long errors,* known too much;
Drooping as the fair it spies,

And drying with her veil her beauteous eyes.

* The turn given to this passage is countenanced by the commentary in Vellutello's edition. It is suitable likewise to the poet's customary censure of his passion, and to the spirit of his introductory sonnet, "Voi, ch'as"coltate in rime sparse," &c.

From the flaunting branches fell
Scatter'd leaves of many a flower
On her, who cast an angel's look,
Sitting, I remember well,
Cover'd with the amorous shower.
Some upon her robe they shook;
Some their way to tresses took,
And as gems in gold appear'd:
On the fountain's margent green
Some were, early, settling seen;

While others, o'er the soil revered,

Frolic circles form'd above,

And seem'd to cry, "Here reigns almighty Love!"

Often did I then exclaim,

Awed by her sweet presence, "Sure

"'Tis one of the celestial band!"

So with air divine the dame

Fairest features, and the lure
Of magic smiles that none withstand,
Joining wonder to command,
Recollection charm'd away,