Sonnet VIII
SONNET VIII.
Poichè la vista angelica serena.
WITH HER, HIS ONLY SOLACE, IS TAKEN AWAY ALL HIS DESIRE OF LIFE.
Since her calm angel face, long beauty's fane,My beggar'd soul by this brief parting throwsIn darkest horrors and in deepest woes,I seek by uttering to allay my pain.Certes, just sorrow leads me to complain:This she, who is its cause, and Love too shows;No other remedy my poor heart knowsAgainst the troubles that in life obtain.Death! thou hast snatch'd her hence with hand unkind,And thou, glad Earth! that fair and kindly faceNow hidest from me in thy close embrace;Why leave me here, disconsolate and blind,Since she who of mine eyes the light has been,Sweet, loving, bright, no more with me is seen?
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