306. Wherein, While Asleep, He Tells His Lady of His Torment and Is Awakened by Her Pity -

WHEREIN, WHILE ASLEEP, HE TELLS HIS LADY OF HIS TORMENT AND IS AWAKENED BY HER PITY

The sacred gust my long-afflicted slumber
Disturbs so gently, courage waxes double
To tell her of my past and present trouble,
With which I dared not, while she lived, encumber
Her heart: the first fierce look of Love's proud number
I publish, that first glance which burned to stubble
My green years; then, how bubble after bubble
Love burst, and how life daily grew more somber.
She speaks no word, but with the dew of pity
Fastens her eyes on me and moans a little,
While true tears fall... O Princess of God's City,
My spirit, which your sorrow breaks, turns brittle
With bitter salt and writhes to see you weeping
And to itself returns, wrenched from its sleeping!
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Author of original: 
Francesco Petrarch
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