I' mi vivea di mia sorte contento.
HE FEARS THAT AN ILLNESS WHICH HAS ATTACKED THE EYES OF LAURA MAY DEPRIVE HIM OF THEIR SIGHT.
I lived so tranquil, with my lot content,
No sorrow visited, nor envy pined,
To other loves if fortune were more kind
One pang of mine their thousand joys outwent;
But those bright eyes, whence never I repent
The pains I feel, nor wish them less to find,
So dark a cloud and heavy now does blind,
Seems as my sun of life in them were spent.
O Nature! mother pitiful yet stern,
Whence is the power which prompts thy wayward deeds,
Such lovely things to make and mar in turn?
True, from one living fount all power proceeds:
But how couldst Thou consent, great God of Heaven,
That aught should rob the world of what thy love had given?
MACGREGOR.
Sonnet Cxcv
Francesco Petrarca (petrarch)
(1)
Poem topics: cloud, dark, feel, god, heaven, life, mother, nature, never, sorrow, sun, world, great, bright, true, blind, heavy, fortune, love, power, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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