Written by
William Shakespeare |
Some glory in their birth, some in their skill,
Some in their wealth, some in their bodies' force,
Some in their garments, though new-fangled ill,
Some in their hawks and hounds, some in their horse;
And every humour hath his adjunct pleasure,
Wherein it finds a joy above the rest:
But these particulars are not my measure;
All these I better in one general best.
Thy love is better than high birth to me,
Richer than wealth, prouder than garments' cost,
Of more delight than hawks or horses be;
And having thee, of all men's pride I boast:
Wretched in this alone, that thou mayst take
All this away and me most wretched make.
|
Written by
Francesco Petrarch |
SONNET XCI. Dell' empia Babilonia, ond' è fuggita. LEAVING ROME, HE DESIRES ONLY PEACE WITH LAURA AND PROSPERITY TO COLONNA. Yes, out of impious Babylon I'm flown,Whence flown all shame, whence banish'd is all good,That nurse of error, and of guilt th' abode,To lengthen out a life which else were gone:[Pg 106]There as Love prompts, while wandering alone,I now a garland weave, and now an ode;With him I commune, and in pensive moodHope better times; this only checks my moan.Nor for the throng, nor fortune do I care,Nor for myself, nor sublunary things,No ardour outwardly, or inly springs:I ask two persons only: let my fairFor me a kind and tender heart maintain;And be my friend secure in his high post again. Nott. From impious Babylon, where all shame is dead,And every good is banish'd to far climes,Nurse of rank errors, centre of worst crimes,Haply to lengthen life, I too am fled:Alone, at last alone, and here, as ledAt Love's sweet will, I posies weave or rhymes,Self-parleying, and still on better timesWrapt in fond thoughts whence only hope is fed.Cares for the world or fortune I have none,Nor much for self, nor any common theme:Nor feel I in me, nor without, great heat.Two friends alone I ask, and that the oneMore merciful and meek to me may seem,The other well as erst, and firm of feet. Macgregor.
|