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Famous Long Mother Daughter Poems

Famous Long Mother Daughter Poems. Long Mother Daughter Poetry by Famous Poets. A collection of the all-time best Mother Daughter long poems


by Francesco Petrarch CANZONE VIII CANZONE VIII. Vergine bella che di sol vestita. TO THE VIRGIN MARY. Beautiful Virgin! clothed with the sun,Crown'd with the stars, who so the Eternal SunWell pleasedst that in thine his light he hid;Love pricks me on to utter speech of thee,And—feeble to commence without thy aid—Of Him who on thy bosom rests in love.Her I invoke who gracious still repliesTo all who ask in faith,Virgin! if ever yetThe misery of man and mortal thingsTo mercy moved thee, to my prayer incline;Help me in this my strife,Though I am but of dust, and thou heaven's radiant Queen! Wise Virgin! of that lovely number oneOf Virgins blest and wise,Even the first and with the brightest lamp:O solid buckler of afflicted hearts!'Neath which against the blows of Fate and Death,Not mere deliverance but great victory is;Relief from the blind ardour which consumesVain mortals here below!Virgin! those lustrous eyes,Which tearfully beheld the cruel printsIn the fair limbs of thy beloved Son,Ah! turn on my sad doubt,Who friendless, helpless thus, for counsel come... Read the rest of this poem... Poems are below...

CANZONE VIII

CANZONE VIII. Vergine bella che di sol vestita. TO THE VIRGIN MARY.  Beautiful Virgin! clothed with the sun,Crown'd with the stars, who so the Eternal SunWell pleasedst that in thine his light he hid;Love pricks me on to utter speech of thee,And—feeble to commence without thy aid—Of Him who on thy bosom rests in love.Her I invoke who gracious still repliesTo all who ask in faith,Virgin! if ever yetThe misery of man and mortal thingsTo mercy moved thee, to my prayer incline;Help me in this my strife,Though I am but of dust, and thou heaven's radiant Queen! Wise Virgin! of that lovely number oneOf Virgins blest and wise,Even the first and with the brightest lamp:O solid buckler of afflicted hearts!'Neath which against the blows of Fate and Death,Not mere deliverance but great victory is;Relief from the blind ardour which consumesVain mortals here below!Virgin! those lustrous eyes,Which tearfully beheld the cruel printsIn the fair limbs of thy beloved Son,Ah! turn on my sad doubt,Who friendless, helpless thus, for counsel come...
Read the rest of this poem...

Poems are below...