WHEREIN THE BEAUTY OF THE WORLD CAME AND WENT WITH LAURA

Amid a lovely thousand one I saw,
Whom seeing — and these shapes no fancy bred —
Instantly I was seized by amorous dread,
Then flamed with ardour, then was hushed with awe.
No fleck was in her, never mortal flaw,
No earthly happiness her hunger fed;
My soul, constrained to follow where she led,
Flinched at the blue pavilions of His law.
Alas, her sweep outsoared all wings, all cries,
And in a little space she sped from sight:
The very thought still finds me frozen numb.

WHEREIN HE HOPES SHE MAY REWARD THE OPEN PURITY AND PERMANENCE OF HIS LOVE

If honest love can merit recompense,
If pity still can do what she has done,
Mercy is mine, for clearer than the sun
My faith wins earth's and Laura's audience.
She feared me on a time; now confidence,
Though fearful to believe, believes me none
The less; where word or look before had won,
Now speaks my whole soul, stripped of all pretence.
And so I hope the high stars may resound
With her sighs doubling mine, on me the while
Compassion turns a tender dreamy smile.

THE SENSE FAINTS PICTURING HER

The high new wonder that enriched our days,
Dawned on our world, but would not dally there,
Heaven revealed, only to make men stare,
Then snatched back in its own bright world to blaze:
That to posterity I paint and praise
Her beauty is Love's will, Love's early snare;
Though now wit, time, pen, ink are weak to bear
The lovely burden and the long delays.
My rhymes pulse slowly for all Love's impelling;
I feel it, and whoever here and now,
By speech or poem will the truth avow,

WHEREIN HE ENTREATS HER TO GLANCE DOWN ON HIM AND HIS GRIEF

O lovely spirit, flown from a lovelier snare
Than any Nature knitted in her loom,
Look down from thy new brightness, see the gloom
That eats my heart out, pity my despair!
The false fog that deluded once I tear
Asunder from my soul; no dreads consume
Thee now: O turn thine eyes, regard my doom
And drink the fire with which I drench the air!
Gaze on this rock from which the Sorga flows —
Dost thou not see me bowed with my black load,
Weeping these years that find me here alone?

WHEREIN HE REVEALS HIS ANGUISH TO ALL SUCH AS HAD WITNESSED HIS PREVIOUS DELIGHT

Love, that in lovelier days would wander here,
Walking and whispering by these mutual shores,
While the glad waters in green corridors
Listened to music she made doubly dear;
Ye flowers, leaves, grass, glades, grottoes, tranquil air,
Soft valleys, soaring hills and golden floors,
Ye trackless forests, rock-piled auditors
That often shared Love's laughter or Love's tear;
Ye coal-eyed nymphs that haunt this leafy place;

WHEREIN HE REVEALS HIS ANGUISH TO ALL SUCH AS HAD WITNESSED HIS PREVIOUS DELIGHT

Love, that in lovelier days would wander here,
Walking and whispering by these mutual shores,
While the glad waters in green corridors
Listened to music she made doubly dear;
Ye flowers, leaves, grass, glades, grottoes, tranquil air,
Soft valleys, soaring hills and golden floors,
Ye trackless forests, rock-piled auditors
That often shared Love's laughter or Love's tear;
Ye coal-eyed nymphs that haunt this leafy place;

WHEREIN THE DAWN DOUBLES HIS ANGUISH

When I behold the rose breathe on Aurora
Its lovely flush and see her bright locks dripping
A golden dew, this heart that watched night slipping
Exclaims, " Ah happy Tithonus, there lies Laura!
Thou canst each twilight sleep in the radiant aura
Of Love's dear head; but not for me the sipping
Of such delights, till the shears do their clipping
And Love is drenched by flower-handed Flora.
Between thee and thy Thetis looms no curtain:
That dusk will bring her back to thee is certain

IN SELF-EXILE AT VAUCLUSE

Nowhere before in one miraculous hour
Have I so clearly seen my soul's desire;
Nowhere before felt freedom lift me higher
In passionate music and in lyric power;
Never proved valley's dark sequestered bower
So perfect for the sigh, the singing fire:
Not even Cyprus could Love so inspire,
Not even Gnidos build Love such a tower.
Everything breathes and spins a single spell
Upon me, whispering love: the sky, the time,
The winds, the birds, water and boughs all rhyme

WHEREIN LOVE MUST COUNSEL SOME CHANGE WITHOUT DELAY

Love must advise me newly and that soon
For he has wrought upon my soul a snare,
Such terror and such anguish fasten there
That, though desire increases, hope is strewn.
Baffled and solitary, both by noon
And night the tears of an immense despair
Burn, and my feet go wildly everywhere
Lacking her hand this many a heavy moon.
I dream our hands touch; but alas, she lies
Under much earth, or else through heaven stares
Upon my heart, but not upon mine eyes:

WHEREIN LAURA'S EYES ENSHRINE THE MAXIMS OF PERFECTION

What woman longs for that illustrious fame
Jewelled with courage, mind and courtesy?
Let her on those bright eyes fix hers and see
My lovely foe, whom men my friend misname.
There let her learn with love of God to flame,
With honour glow, how native grace can be
More golden, and by what proud certainty
To touch the heaven that awaits her with acclaim.
The liquid converse that no pen may capture
Is there; the splendid silence and the pure
Act that defies the poet's purest rapture;