English

HE TURNS TO FLIGHT, BUT PASSION PURSUES

When my whole soul is turned toward that part
Where sheds Madonna's face a shadow of light,
Light for a shadow, and in my thought that light,
Which burns me and consumes in every part,
I, sore adread lest from my heart it part
Seeing at hand the end of this my light,
Go as a blind man goes, deprived of light,
Ignorant where to go, whence to depart.
So from before the strokes of striding Death
I run, I run, but not so swift Desire
Ceases to follow, as is his wont, alone.

WHEREIN HE RECOUNTS HIS STATE WHEN LAURA IS
PRESENT AND WHEN SHE LEAVES HIM

Tears, bitter tears fall in a bitter rain,
And my heart trembles with a storm of sighs
When on your beauty bend my burning eyes,
For whose sole sake the world seems flat and vain.
But ah, when I can see that smile again,
That chaste, sweet, delicate smile, then passion dies
Withered in its own flaming agonies:
Gazing upon you, passion is lost and pain.
But all too soon my very soul is rocked
When you depart and with your passing dear

WHEREIN HE LIKENS HIMSELF TO A PILGRIM

The pilgrim, pallid and with hair grown gray,
Takes leave of the sweet spot where life was dear,
And of his little family whose great fear
Paints the loved parent fainting on the way;
Then trembling in his body's broken clay,
Upon the verge of his last vigil here,
Sustained by his soul's purpose burning clear,
He steps, though years and leagues by night and day
Oppress him. But his pious love finds Rome
Somehow at length; he seeks the Face Divine

ON LEAVING LAURA

I look behind me, every step retrace,
And scarce the burden of my body bear,
And then take comfort from your local air
Which gives me breath to move and moan " Alas! "
Then thinking on the loss of my heart's grace,
The long, long journey, life a shortening stair,
I fix my feet in fear and white despair
And to the earth my streaming eyes abase.
And through my tears a doubt stirs, questioning:
" How ever can these limbs, consumed by grief,

WHEREIN HE IS BROUGHT BY LAURA'S LOVELINESS TO THE CONTEMPLATION OF THE HIGHEST EXCELLENCE

When Love his flaming image on her brow
Enthrones in perfect beauty like a star,
As far as she outshines the rest, so far
I feel the blaze of passion surge and grow.
Yet still I bless the place, the hour when so
Supremely high, at light so singular
I dared to look: " O heart, you blessed are
To gaze upon that pure, that golden glow, "
I murmur. " She inspired the splendid thought
Which points to heaven and teaches honest eyes

WHEREIN HE CHERISHES THE HOPE THAT HIS LADY MAY RELENT WITH TIME

If, from the points of pain, my life persuade,
Dear Lady, grace enough, enough of years,
Reprieve enough to see through my dark tears
The brilliant energy of those eyes fade,
The fine gold of that hair with silver sprayed,
The garlands dust, the green robes in arrears,
And that face colourless which, filled with fears
Of mortal wounds, my long lament delayed —
Through Love then will such courage in me live
That I will naked show those martyrdoms

TO STEFANO COLONNA THE ELDER, INVITING HIM TO THE COUNTRY

O glorious column, pillar of our faith,
Our hope and the illustrious Latin line,
Which, through the papal thunders, proved a shrine
Not to be twisted from its perfect path:
This place no palace, porch nor theatre hath,
But in their stead a fir, a beech, a pine
Between the grass and mountain that is mine
Whence we descend, letting the lyric wrath
Exalt our earthly minds to paradise,
While the nightingale, that sweetly in the glade

TO A FRIEND, WITH A GIFT OF TRUFFLES IN THE SPRING

When the bright planet which divides the hours
Returns to dwell with Taurus in his house,
There falls a virtue from his burning brows
That paints the world with green and silver showers;
And more than gleam of grass and grace of flowers
His golden glances vehemently arouse:
Down in the cold dark womb of earth he glows
With new life and with sudden restless powers.
So that such fruits as these I send arise:
And even so does she, that is the sun

WITH A GIFT OF BIRDS WHICH ADDRESS A FRIEND

At foot of those her hills, where first her dress
Of lovely earth that self-same Lady wore,
Who often wakes him whom his fierce sobs tore —
He that now sends us to your loveliness —
Beneath those hills we flew, with peace to bless
Our flight — that peace all living things implore —
Nor ever dreamed to find a sudden door
Thwarting our wings or threatening distress.
But from our present misery, thus reft
From our so recent state, we still obtain

WHEREIN HE EXHORTS A FRIEND TO PERSEVERE IN THE PURSUIT OF LETTERS AND PHILOSOPHY

Gluttony, sloth and pillowed indolence
Have driven each virtue from the world away,
Till nature from her course is led astray,
Cast down by custom from her eminence;
The lights of heaven are wholly scattered hence,
Which pointed man through darkness and dismay,
So that amazement and contempt repay
Those who at Helicon drink eloquence.
" Whom now can laurel or the myrtle lure?
Let shame and hunger stalk Philosophy! "