Sonnet LXXVIII
SONNET LXXVIII.
Poi che voi ed io più volte abbiam provato.
TO A FRIEND, COUNSELLING HIM TO ABANDON EARTHLY PLEASURES.
Still has it been our bitter lot to proveHow hope, or e'er it reach fruition, flies!Up then to that high good, which never dies,Lift we the heart—to heaven's pure bliss above.[Pg 95]On earth, as in a tempting mead, we rove,Where coil'd 'mid flowers the traitor serpent lies;And, if some casual glimpse delight our eyes,'Tis but to grieve the soul enthrall'd by Love.Oh! then, as thou wouldst wish ere life's last dayTo taste the sweets of calm unbroken rest,Tread firm the narrow, shun the beaten way—Ah! to thy friend too well may be address'd:"Thou show'st a path, thyself most apt to stray,Which late thy truant feet, fond youth, have never press'd." Wrangham. Friend, as we both in confidence complainTo see our ill-placed hopes return in vain,Let that chief good which must for ever pleaseExalt our thought and fix our happiness.This world as some gay flowery field is spread,Which hides a serpent in its painted bed,And most it wounds when most it charms our eyes,At once the tempter and the paradise.And would you, then, sweet peace of mind restore,And in fair calm expect your parting hour,Leave the mad train, and court the happy few.Well may it be replied, "O friend, you showOthers the path, from which so often youHave stray'd, and now stray farther than before."
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