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This Red Rose - Italian Sonnet
Anapest Pentameter

This red rose of spent beauty now lies dead in my hand tear stained.
Canst thou blossom again with fresh newness all petals as fore,
when love's sweet bloom was blushing upon her glad cheeks then of yore?
With hearts we lived the moment, as lovers our flame not restrained
and drank nectar from Venus in chalis of golden flecks grained.
It was time of delight in yon bower when roses galore
put their tender young leaves on brown trellis near wooden barred door.
Then met I with her often in garden that high walls contained.
But alas, our two families angrily strove to forbid
this love marriage of daughter and me, for their feud in past time
did not so now allow any such union of making bells chime.
Then together with hate, our plans they in full anger undid.
Locks are gray, her short life is gone; I sit alone with red rose.
Past remembrance of damsel then fair, haunts till darkness doth close

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