Sonnet CCXVI

[Pg 221]
 
SONNET CCXVI.
 
I' pur ascolto, e non odo novella.
 
HEARING NO TIDINGS OF HER, HE BEGINS TO DESPAIR.
 
 
Still do I wait to hear, in vain still wait,Of that sweet enemy I love so well:What now to think or say I cannot tell,'Twixt hope and fear my feelings fluctuate:The beautiful are still the marks of fate;And sure her worth and beauty most excel:What if her God have call'd her hence, to dwellWhere virtue finds a more congenial state?If so, she will illuminate that sphereEven as a sun: but I—'tis done with me!I then am nothing, have no business here!O cruel absence! why not let me seeThe worst? my little tale is told, I fear,My scene is closed ere it accomplish'd be.
 
Morehead. 
 
No tidings yet—I listen, but in vain;Of her, my beautiful belovèd foe,What or to think or say I nothing know,So thrills my heart, my fond hopes so sustain,Danger to some has in their beauty lain;Fairer and chaster she than others show;God haply seeks to snatch from earth belowVirtue's best friend, that heaven a star may gain,Or rather sun. If what I dread be nigh,My life, its trials long, its brief reposeAre ended all. O cruel absence! whyDidst thou remove me from the menaced woes?My short sad story is already done,And midway in its course my vain race run.
 
Macgregor.

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