Written by
Francesco Petrarch |
SONNET LXXXIX. Sennuccio, i' vo' che sappi in qual maniera. HE RELATES TO HIS FRIEND SENNUCCIO HIS UNHAPPINESS, AND THE VARIED MOOD OF LAURA. To thee, Sennuccio, fain would I declare,To sadden life, what wrongs, what woes I find:Still glow my wonted flames; and, though resign'dTo Laura's fickle will, no change I bear.All humble now, then haughty is my fair;Now meek, then proud; now pitying, then unkind:Softness and tenderness now sway her mind;Then do her looks disdain and anger wear.Here would she sweetly sing, there sit awhile,Here bend her step, and there her step retard;Here her bright eyes my easy heart ensnared;There would she speak fond words, here lovely smile;There frown contempt;—such wayward cares I proveBy night, by day; so wills our tyrant Love! Anon. 1777. [Pg 105] Alas, Sennuccio! would thy mind could frameWhat now I suffer! what my life's drear reign;Consumed beneath my heart's continued pain,At will she guides me—yet am I the same.Now humble—then doth pride her soul inflame;Now harsh—then gentle; cruel—kind again;Now all reserve—then borne on frolic's vein;Disdain alternates with a milder claim.Here once she sat, and there so sweetly sang;Here turn'd to look on me, and lingering stood;There first her beauteous eyes my spirit stole:And here she smiled, and there her accents rang,Her speaking face here told another mood.Thus Love, our sovereign, holds me in control.
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