Classic Poem

WHEREIN HE IS LOATH TO REMEMBER WHERE HE HAS LEFT LAURA

I seek a life remote and solitary,
As the wild rivers, fields and forests know,
To escape the blind, to shun the sordid so,
Whereof the wise and virtuous are wary;
And were my wish my will, I would not tarry
Under this Tuscan blue where soft airs flow,
But, singing, up to hill-dark Sorga go,
And, sighing, in its sighs find sanctuary.
But ah, as ever hostile Destiny
Forces my footsteps where my grief discloses
Amid the mire my garland of proud roses:
Yet to my hand, not all unworthy, She
Now proves, this once at least, to mercy prone,
Since — but the rest be Hers and Love's alone!