Classic Poem

A Soliloquy Out of Italian

COULD he whom my dissembled rigour grieves,
But know what torment to my soul it gives;
He'd find how fondly I return his flame,
And want myself the pity he would claim.
Immortal gods! why has your doom decreed
Two wounded hearts with equal pangs should bleed?
Since that great law, which your tribunal guides,
Has join'd in love whom destiny divides,
Repent, ye powers, the injuries you cause,
Or change our natures, or reform your laws.
Unhappy partner of my killing pain,
Think what I feel the moment you complain
Each sigh you utter wounds my tenderest part,
So much my lips misrepresent my heart.
When from your eyes the falling drops distil,
My vital blood in every tear you spill:
And all those mournful agonies I hear,
Are but the echoes of my own despair.English