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Best Famous Deludes Poems

Here is a collection of the all-time best famous Deludes poems. This is a select list of the best famous Deludes poetry. Reading, writing, and enjoying famous Deludes poetry (as well as classical and contemporary poems) is a great past time. These top poems are the best examples of deludes poems.

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Love In The Asylum

 A stranger has come
To share my room in the house not right in the head,
 A girl mad as birds

Bolting the night of the door with her arm her plume.
 Strait in the mazed bed
She deludes the heaven-proof house with entering clouds

Yet she deludes with walking the nightmarish room,
 At large as the dead,
Or rides the imagined oceans of the male wards.

 She has come possessed
Who admits the delusive light through the bouncing wall,
 Possessed by the skies

She sleeps in the narrow trough yet she walks the dust
 Yet raves at her will
On the madhouse boards worn thin by my walking tears.

And taken by light in her arms at long and dear last
 I may without fail
Suffer the first vision that set fire to the stars.

Written by Francesco Petrarch |

Sonnet CX

SONNET CX.
 Come talora al caldo tempo suole.
 HE LIKENS HIMSELF TO THE INSECT WHICH, FLYING INTO ONE'S EYES, MEETS ITS DEATH.
  As when at times in summer's scorching heats.Lured by the light, the simple insect flies,As a charm'd thing, into the passer's eyes,Whence death the one and pain the other meets,Thus ever I, my fatal sun to greet,Rush to those eyes where so much sweetness liesThat reason's guiding hand fierce Love defies,And by strong will is better judgment beat.I clearly see they value me but ill,[Pg 140]And, for against their torture fails my strength.That I am doom'd my life to lose at length:But Love so dazzles and deludes me still,My heart their pain and not my loss laments,And blind, to its own death my soul consents.
 Macgregor.

Written by Francesco Petrarch |

Sonnet CLXXVI

SONNET CLXXVI.
 Voglia mi sprona; Amor mi guida e scorge.
 HE DESCRIBES HIS STATE, SPECIFYING THE DATE OF HIS ATTACHMENT.
  Passion impels me, Love escorts and leads,Pleasure attracts me, habits old enchain,Hope with its flatteries comforts me again,And, at my harass'd heart, with fond touch pleads.Poor wretch! it trusts her still, and little heedsThe blind and faithless leader of our train;Reason is dead, the senses only reign:One fond desire another still succeeds.Virtue and honour, beauty, courtesy,With winning words and many a graceful way,My heart entangled in that laurel sweet.In thirteen hundred seven and twenty, I—'Twas April, the first hour, on its sixth day—Enter'd Love's labyrinth, whence is no retreat.
 Macgregor.  By will impell'd, Love o'er my path presides;By Pleasure led, o'ercome by Habit's reign,Sweet Hope deludes, and comforts me again;At her bright touch, my heart's despair subsides.It takes her proffer'd hand, and there confides.To doubt its blind disloyal guide were vain;Each sense usurps poor Reason's broken rein;On each desire, another wilder rides!Grace, virtue, honour, beauty, words so dear,Have twined me with that laurell'd bough, whose power[Pg 192]My heart hath tangled in its lab'rinth sweet:The thirteen hundred twenty-seventh year,The sixth of April's suns—in that first hour,My entrance mark'd, whence I see no retreat.
 Wollaston.