From Petrarca


" Solo e pensoso i piu deserti campi. "

Lonely and pensive o'er the lonely strand,
" With wandering steps and slow, " I loiter on,
My eyes at watch, to warn me to be gone
If mark of human foot impress the sand:
Else would my piteous plight be rudely scann'd,
And curious folk would stare to see the wan
And deathlike images of joy foregone,
And how I inly waste like smouldering brand;
Or I would fain believe the tangled wood
Which girds the small field on the mountain side
The one sole witness to my crazy mood:
But ah! what sandy waste, or forest dim,
My haunt obscure from love can ever hide?
Where'er I think , I converse hold with him .
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