Sonnet XLVII
SONNET XLVII.
Tutta la mia fiorita e verde etade.
JUST WHEN HE MIGHT FAIRLY HOPE SOME RETURN OF AFFECTION, ENVIOUS DEATH CARRIES HER OFF.
All my green years and golden prime of manHad pass'd away, and with attemper'd sighsMy bosom heaved—ere yet the days ariseWhen life declines, contracting its brief span.Already my loved enemy beganTo lull suspicion, and in sportive guise,With timid confidence, though playful, wise,In gentle mockery my long pains to scan:The hour was near when Love, at length, may mateWith Chastity; and, by the dear one's side,The lover's thoughts and words may freely flow:Death saw, with envy, my too happy state,E'en its fair promise—and, with fatal pride,Strode in the midway forth, an armèd foe!
Dacre. Now of my life each gay and greener yearPass'd by, and cooler grew each hour the flameWith which I burn'd: and to that point we cameWhence life descends, as to its end more near;Now 'gan my lovely foe each virtuous fearGently to lay aside, as safe from blame;And though with saint-like virtue still the same,Mock'd my sweet pains indeed, but deign'd to hear[Pg 272]Nigh drew the time when Love delights to dwellWith Chastity; and lovers with their mateCan fearless sit, and all they muse of tell.Death envied me the joys of such a state;Nay, e'en the hopes I form'd: and on them fellE'en in midway, like some arm'd foe in wait.
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