The Sonnets, Triumphs, and Other Poems of Petrarch Part 14

On every side Love found his victim bare, And through mine eyes transfix'd my throbbing heart; Those eyes, which now with constant sorrows flow: But poor the triumph of his boasted art, Who thus could pierce a naked youth, nor dare To you in armour mail'd even to display his bow!

WRANGHAM.

'Twas on the blessed morning when the sun In pity to our Maker hid his light, That, unawares, the captive I was won, Lady, of your bright eyes which chain'd me quite; That seem'd to me no time against the blows Of love to make defence, to frame relief: Secure and unsuspecting, thus my woes Date their commencement from the common grief.

Love found me feeble then and fenceless all, Open the way and easy to my heart Through eyes, where since my sorrows ebb and flow: But therein was, methinks, his triumph small, On me, in that weak state, to strike his dart, Yet hide from you so strong his very bow.

MACGREGOR.

SONNET IV.

_Quel ch' infinita providenza ed arte._

HE CELEBRATES THE BIRTHPLACE OF LAURA.

He that with wisdom, goodness, power divine, Did ample Nature's perfect book design, Adorn'd this beauteous world, and those above, Kindled fierce Mars, and soften'd milder Jove: When seen on earth the shadows to fulfill Of the less volume which conceal'd his will, Took John and Peter from their homely care, And made them pillars of his temple fair.

Nor in imperial Rome would He be born, Whom servile Judah yet received with scorn: E'en Bethlehem could her infant King disown, And the rude manger was his early throne.

Victorious sufferings did his pomp display, Nor other chariot or triumphal way.

At once by Heaven's example and decree, Such honour waits on such humility.

BASIL KENNET.

The High Eternal, in whose works supreme The Master's vast creative power hath spoke: At whose command each circling sphere awoke, Jove mildly rose, and Mars with fiercer beam: To earth He came, to ratify the scheme Reveal'd to us through prophecy's dark cloak, To sound redemption, speak man's fallen yoke: He chose the humblest for that heavenly theme.

But He conferr'd not on imperial Rome His birth's renown; He chose a lowlier sky,-- To stand, through Him, the proudest spot on earth!

And now doth s.h.i.+ne within its humble home A star, that doth each other so outvie, That grateful nature hails its lovely birth.

WOLLASTON.

Who show'd such infinite providence and skill In his eternal government divine, Who launch'd the spheres, gave sun and moon to s.h.i.+ne, And brightest wonders the dark void to fill; On earth who came the Scriptures to maintain, Which for long years the truth had buried yet, Took John and Peter from the fisher's net And gave to each his part in the heavenly reign.

He for his birth fair Rome preferr'd not then, But lowly Bethlehem; thus o'er proudest state He ever loves humility to raise.

Now rises from small spot like sun again, Whom Nature hails, the place grows bright and great Which birth so heavenly to our earth displays.

MACGREGOR.

SONNET V.

_Quand' io movo i sospiri a chiamar voi._

HE PLAYS UPON THE NAME LAURETA OR LAURA.

In sighs when I outbreathe your cherish'd name, That name which love has writ upon my heart, LAUd instantly upon my doting tongue, At the first thought of its sweet sound, is heard; Your REgal state, which I encounter next, Doubles my valour in that high emprize: But TAcit ends the word; your praise to tell Is fitting load for better backs than mine.

Thus all who call you, by the name itself, Are taught at once to LAUd and to REvere, O worthy of all reverence and esteem!

Save that perchance Apollo may disdain That mortal tongue of his immortal boughs Should ever so presume as e'en to speak.

ANON.

SONNET VI.

_S traviato e 'l folle mio desio._

OF HIS FOOLISH Pa.s.sION FOR LAURA.

So wayward now my will, and so unwise, To follow her who turns from me in flight, And, from love's fetters free herself and light, Before my slow and shackled motion flies, That less it lists, the more my sighs and cries Would point where pa.s.ses the safe path and right, Nor aught avails to check or to excite, For Love's own nature curb and spur defies.

Thus, when perforce the bridle he has won, And helpless at his mercy I remain, Against my will he speeds me to mine end 'Neath yon cold laurel, whose false boughs upon Hangs the harsh fruit, which, tasted, spreads the pain I sought to stay, and mars where it should mend.

MACGREGOR.

My tameless will doth recklessly pursue Her, who, unshackled by love's heavy chain, Flies swiftly from its chase, whilst I in vain My fetter'd journey pantingly renew; The safer track I offer to its view, But hopeless is my power to restrain, It rides regardless of the spur or rein; Love makes it scorn the hand that would subdue.

The triumph won, the bridle all its own, Without one curb I stand within its power, And my destruction helplessly presage: It guides me to that laurel, ever known, To all who seek the healing of its flower, To aggravate the wound it should a.s.suage.

WOLLASTON.

SONNET VII.

_La gola e 'l sonno e l' oziose piume._

TO A FRIEND, ENCOURAGING HIM TO PURSUE POETRY.

Torn is each virtue from its earthly throne By sloth, intemperance, and voluptuous ease; E'en nature deviates from her wonted ways, Too much the slave of vicious custom grown.

Far hence is every light celestial gone, That guides mankind through life's perplexing maze; And those, whom Helicon's sweet waters please, From mocking crowds receive contempt alone.

Who now would laurel, myrtle-wreaths obtain?

Let want, let shame, Philosophy attend!

Cries the base world, intent on sordid gain.

What though thy favourite path be trod by few; Let it but urge thee more, dear gentle friend!

Thy great design of glory to pursue.

ANON.

Intemperance, slumber, and the slothful down Have chased each virtue from this world away; Hence is our nature nearly led astray From its due course, by habitude o'erthrown; Those kindly lights of heaven so dim are grown, Which shed o'er human life instruction's ray; That him with scornful wonder they survey, Who would draw forth the stream of Helicon.