Sonnet XXXVI
SONNET XXXVI.
Quel che 'n Tessaglia ebbe le man sì pronte.
SOME HAVE WEPT FOR THEIR WORST ENEMIES, BUT LAURA DEIGNS HIM NOT A SINGLE TEAR.
He who for empire at Pharsalia threw,Reddening its beauteous plain with civil gore,As Pompey's corse his conquering soldiers bore,Wept when the well-known features met his view:The shepherd youth, who fierce Goliath slew,Had long rebellious children to deplore,And bent, in generous grief, the brave Saul o'erHis shame and fall when proud Gilboa knew:But you, whose cheek with pity never paled,Who still have shields at hand to guard you wellAgainst Love's bow, which shoots its darts in vain,Behold me by a thousand deaths assail'd,And yet no tears of thine compassion tell,But in those bright eyes anger and disdain.