Sonnet XCV
[Pg 108]
SONNET XCV.
Rimansi addietro il sestodecim' anno.
THOUGH HE IS UNHAPPY, HIS LOVE REMAINS EVER UNCHANGED.
My sixteenth year of sighs its course has run,I stand alone, already on the browWhere Age descends: and yet it seems as nowMy time of trial only were begun.'Tis sweet to love, and good to be undone;Though life be hard, more days may Heaven allowMisfortune to outlive: else Death may bowThe bright head low my loving praise that won.Here am I now who fain would be elsewhere;More would I wish and yet no more I would;I could no more and yet did all I could:And new tears born of old desires declareThat still I am as I was wont to be,And that a thousand changes change not me.