English

WHEREIN LAURA'S UNEXPECTED SMILE OF WELCOME IS ALMOST TOO MUCH

Live sparks fell flashing from those wells of fire
On me so sweetly, fell in lighting flashes,
Welled from a heart whose eloquence abashes,
Poured softly from a heart whose sighs inspire:
Ah, the mere recollection warms desire
When memory moves: — I look — and her long lashes
Gleam with glad tears, and the gray lifeless ashes
That marked her scorn, some glow of grace acquire!
My soul in sorrow nurtured, set in pain,
(How great the force that custom soon possesses!)

OF LAURA COVERING HER EYES WITH HER HAND AGAINST HER GAZE

On that sweet face for which my sighs ascend
Mine eyes were fixed with fierce intensity,
When Love, to chastise such temerity,
Lifted her lovely hand — and made an end;
Lifted my heart, too — as might hook suspend
A fish, or as the lime the bird — so me:
For sense delights not in philosophy
And often will its own sweet death commend.
But of its object, then, my vision cheated,
As it were dreaming, forced an entrance soon,

WHEREIN HIS SOUL VISITS, BUT FAILS TO INTERRUPT, HER SLUMBER

If only time could some revenge obtain me
From her whose every word and glance decried me,
Who then, with sorrier tactics to deride me,
Escapes and veils her eyes, the more to pain me —
So cruel — and yet so sweet! Ah, she will drain me,
Exhaust my spirit, tear the soul inside me,
Rage like a lion in my heart to chide me
From sleep and to the clamorous night constrain me!
My soul, expelled from slumber's drowsy dwelling,

WHEREIN, UNLIKE THE GENERAL RUN OF LOVERS, HE PREFERS THE MORNING

They hate the dawn, they hunger for the twilight,
These lovers rapt in bright tranquillity;
But nightfall aggravates my misery;
My brighter moment blossoms with the shy light
Of dawn, when Nature's flaming light and my light,
My Laura, both arise and both agree
In lustre and in loveliness... And see!
Heaven hangs on Earth, blending his brilliant high light
With Earth's gray! As when bursts in quick green fire
That Laurel, now so rooted in my soul,

WHEREIN, LACKING NEWS OF HER, HE IS HEARTSICK WITH FEAR

Still must I listen — still no tidings hear
Of that too lovely, too loved enemy:
What think or what declare perplexes me,
So hope exalts, so sinks my heart with fear.
Her beauty is her peril; none is peer
To her high chastity: such grace hath she
God seeks to snatch earth's purest, it may be,
That the blue bubble of His atmosphere
May boast a new star, a new sun ascended.
And if my dread be proved, then life's long ravage

WHEREIN HE SIGHS FOR THOSE VARIOUS CHARMS FROM WHICH A PERVERSE FORTUNE EVER PLEASES TO ABSENT HIM

O looks angelical! O words as sweet!
Shall I behold you, hear you once again?
O golden tresses, Love's most golden chain!
O leaden heart trapped in their golden net!
O glorious face whose magic charms beset
My tortured soul to trammel and detain!
O dear delusion! O conceit as vain
To hug the spear's head with my own wounds wet!
If those her eyes vouchsafe a liquid beam
(Eyes where my soul, my thoughts, forever dwell)

WHEREIN HIS PASSIONATE DESIRE TO SEE HER AGAIN IS AGGRAVATED BY THE DREAD HE MAY NEVER SEE HER MORE

In doubt of my own state, I weep, I sing,
I hope, I shudder, and with rhymes and sighs
Relax my load, while Love new pressure plies,
Subjects my heart to sterner suffering.
Will ever again her pure sweet image bring
Their early light to these abysmal eyes?
Alas, what can I hope or what devise
To shun the jealous shade of sorrow's wing?
For heaven, whose accolade it merits well,
It is indifferent to their earthly fate,

WHEREIN HER DEATH IS INCREDIBLE, BUT, IF TRUE, LIFE WITHOUT HER IS EQUALLY SO

O misery! O portent shaped of terror!
Can it be true, then, that the sweet light goes
Before its time, my refuge from all woes,
Life of my will, physician to my error?
If so, why are not all things bleaker, barer
With one inclusive curse? Ah, God well knows
Nor He nor Nature could that chapter close,
Fulfill dark fears, blast hopes as fair — or fairer!
It still enchants my heart to wish once more
For the dear advent of that lovely vision,

WHEREIN, IN A VISION, LAURA REVEALS HE WILL NEVER SEE HER AGAIN

Distant in time and space, I could console me
With reveries of one whose look was Heaven;
Now apprehension haunts me like a raven
Perched on my mind — shadows and dreads control me:
For though in sleep her eyes some pity dole me,
Yet the four winds from seas that number seven
Will wail like some old lover's ghost bereaven,
Scourging away those hopes that might cajole me:
" That last dark dusk, " she cries, " do you remember?

WHEREIN HE RECALLS HIS FOREBODINGS AT FAREWELL

How paints my mind with sickening agitation
The day I left her — grave, disconsolate,
My heart with my Madonna and my fate —
That day comes back with strange intoxication:
I see her move amid a constellation
Of ladies liquid-eyed and intricate,
A rose, the brightest there, the least ornate,
Upon her brow a pensive resignation.
Then sings in light her inner sprightliness,
Her pearls, her chaplets and her rich robe moving;
Her song, her laugh, her gentle No and Yes —