Canzone: Of His Love, with the Figure of a Sudden Storm

Even as the day when it is yet at dawning
Seems mild and kind, being fair to look upon,
While the birds carol underneath their awning
Of leaves, as if they never would have done;
Which on a sudden changes, just at noon,
And the broad light is broken into rain
That stops and comes again;
Even as the traveller, who had held his way
Hopeful and glad because of the bright weather,
Forgetteth then his gladness altogether;
Even so am I, through Love, alas the day!

It plainly is through Love that I am so.
At first, he let me still grow happier
Each day, and make her kindness seem to grow;
But now he has quite changed her heart in her.
And I, whose hopes throbbed and were all astir
For times when I should call her mine aloud,
And in her pride be proud
Who is more fair than gems are, ye may say,
Having that fairness which holds hearts in rule; —
I have learnt now to count him but a fool
Who before evening says, A goodly day.

It had been better not to have begun,
Since, having known my error, 'tis too late.
This thing from which I suffer, thou hast done,
Lady: canst thou restore me my first state?
The wound thou gavest canst thou medicate?
Not thou, forsooth: thou hast not any art
To keep death from my heart.
O lady! where is now my life's full meed
Of peace, — mine once, and which thou took'st away?
Surely it cannot now be far from day:
Night is already very long indeed.

The sea is much more beautiful at rest
Than when the storm is trampling over it.
Wherefore, to see the smile which has so bless'd
This heart of mine, deem'st thou these eyes unfit?
There is no maid so lovely, it is writ,
That by such stern unwomanly regard
Her face may not be marr'd.
I therefore pray of thee, my own soul's wife,
That thou remember me who am forgot.
How shall I stand without thee? Art thou not
The pillar of the building of my life?
Author of original: 
Prinzivalle Doria
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