English

WHEREIN HIS LADY IS THE REPOSITORY OF EVERY EXCELLENCE

Her noble blood beats in humility,
So golden the high heart, so pure the mind,
At once the flower and the fruit combined;
Her happy spirit mocks the solemn eye:
Thus, by her proud plumed aristocracy
Of stars — nay, by that Sovereign who enshrined
In her worth, honour, courage — she defined
The poet's dream — the poet's misery.
Virtue and Love in richest union dwell;
Her daily loveliness and natural grace
Blend to announce a noiseless miracle;

HER VARIOUS SPELLS THAT PUT HIM IN THRALL

Graces that liberal Heaven on few confers:
Rare virtue seen as seldom in our kind;
Ripe judgment with youth's golden tresses twined;
Ethereal loveliness stands, breathes and stirs
In her humility; perfect charm is hers;
Her voice moves like tall music in the mind;
She steps a goddess; fervent and refined
Her wit to break proud stubborn characters;
The lustre of her eyes turns hearts to stone,
Hangs lamps in hell and sets the night on fire;

WHEREIN, THOUGH LOVE'S DEVOTED SERVANT THESE TWENTY YEARS, HIS SOLE WAGE IS TEARS

Felicitous in dreams, to brood content,
To grasp at shadows, chase the summer gust,
Through shoreless fathomless leagues of water thrust,
To build on sand, write on the windy tent
Of air, gaze at the sun till these eyes, spent
And broken by his splendour, drop to dust,
To drive down some soft slope with empty lust
The storm-hooved stag with cattle slow and bent;
Sightless and faint, begging an end to all,

WHEREIN HE EXPLAINS HIS LOVE-STRICKEN STATE, RECALLING THE YEAR, DAY, HOUR OF ITS ORIGIN

Desire presses, Love leads and presides;
Pleasure persuades and ancient habits hold;
Hope cheats and charms with flatteries as old,
And with her bright touch my heart's anguish chides:
It takes her hand, in her my heart confides,
Trusts to its blind and treacherous guide (Ah, cold
And cruel is Love!): the sense grows overbold:
On each wild wish a wilder passion rides!
Virtue and grace, beauty and honour — these

WHEREIN HE IS THE MOST MISERABLE OF LOVERS

From Spanish Ebro to Hydaspes dark,
Exploring ocean's every nook that ran
From the Red Sea to the cold Caspian —
In earth, in heaven you shall one Phaenix mark.
What favoured or what infamous bird swept stark
Across my star? Which Sister winds my span,
That I alone find Pity under ban
And live in Hell who hoped for Heaven's lark?
Speak not of her, but him, her guide, who pours
Her whole heart full of love and light, bestowing
Upon her spirit gifts to overflowing;

QUITTING VAUCLUSE, HIS SOUL STAYS BEHIND WITH LAURA

Those cherished hills which hold my spirit still
Where the heart lingers, though I tear my feet
Fiercely away, confront my dull retreat,
While I bear Love's dark burden by Love's will.
I marvel often that I can fulfil
The sweet yoke's duties which despair would cheat
In vain, that I can breathe and my pulse beat:
The more I run, the closer looms my ill.
And as the stag, by the dark arrow stricken,
The venomed iron rankling in his flank,

WHEREIN, TRAVELING THE RHONE TO AVIGNON, THE POET IMPLORES THE RIVER TO KISS HER HAND, SINCE IT WILL REACH LAURA BEFORE HIM

Impetuous flood, that from thine Alpine bed,
Gnawing around thee, dost thy name acquire,
Like me both night and day thou dost conspire
Where love leads me and thou'rt by nature led:
Plunge on: thy course is never surfeited
With weariness, no slumber binds thy fire;
Yet, ere the ocean claims thy final hire,
Dally where fire and sky their brightness shed
Most bravely. There our sun's most fecund beam

WHEREIN THE REFLECTION THAT POSTERITY WILL ENVY HIS LOVE CONSOLES HIM SOMEWHAT

Sweet anger, sweet disdain and peace as sweet,
Sweet ill, sweet anguish, burden sweet I bear,
Sweet accents sweet to listen to, sweet snare
That sets the soul on fire or curbs its heat.
Be still, my soul! Accept your bitter meat;
And all the acid sweets that fill your fare
Mix with that sweetest bliss, that dear despair,
Softly saluting her, " Thou Paraclete! "
Haply hereafter envious youth shall sigh:
" For sake of that superlative loveliness

WHEREIN TO INHABIT EARTH WITH HER IS FELICITY ENOUGH SINCE HE CAN ENRICH HIS SENSES FOLLOWING HER STEPS, HER STAR

Soul, so endowed, so variously endowed
To think, to write, to speak, read, see and hear!
Eyes drunk with her! And thou, devoted ear
Feeding the heart with drops of golden cloud!
Your good star rules: if that path, steep and proud,
And still so difficult, were void of her,
However gained, her glance had not flashed there,
Nor had you found her footprint where grass glowed.
Now with the light so luminous, sign so sure,

WHEREIN HE PREDICTS AFTER-LIFE TO HIS VERSES AND THAT PITY FROM POSTERITY WHICH LAURA REFUSES

Alas, I am all flame, yet she believes not!
All the world credits it, save only she
Who is all loveliness and the world to me;
She clearly sees I suffer, yet she grieves not:
O loveliest infidel, that still perceives not,
Canst fail my whole heart in mine eyes to see?
Were not my star of baleful augury,
I should find mercy, I whom Love reprieves not.
And still this flame which merits scarce a nod,