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Poem	SONNET C. Poi che 'l cammin m' è chiuso di mercede. THOUGH FAR FROM LAURA, SOLITARY AND UNHAPPY, ENVY STILL PURSUES HIM. Since mercy's door is closed, alas! to me,And hopeless paths my poor life separateFrom her in whom, I know not by what fate,The guerdon lay of all my constancy,My heart that lacks not other food, on sighsI feed: to sorrow born, I live on tears:Nor therefore mourn I: sweeter far appearsMy present grief than others can surmise.[Pg 130]On thy dear portrait rests alone my view,Which nor Praxiteles nor Xeuxis drew,But a more bold and cunning pencil framed.What shore can hide me, or what distance shield,If by my cruel exile yet untamedInsatiate Envy finds me here concealed? Macgregor.
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