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Poem	SONNET CCXI. Qual paura ho, quando mi torna a mente. MELANCHOLY RECOLLECTIONS AND PRESAGES. O Laura! when my tortured mindThe sad remembrance bearsOf that ill-omen'd day,When, victim to a thousand doubts and fears,I left my soul behind,That soul that could not from its partner stray;In nightly visions to my longing eyesThy form oft seems to rise,As ever thou wert seen,Fair like the rose, 'midst paling flowers the queen,[Pg 218]But loosely in the wind,Unbraided wave the ringlets of thy hair,That late with studious care,I saw with pearls and flowery garlands twined:On thy wan lip, no cheerful smile appears;Thy beauteous face a tender sadness wears;Placid in pain thou seem'st, serene in grief,As conscious of thy fate, and hopeless of relief!Cease, cease, presaging heart! O angels, deignTo hear my fervent prayer, that all my fears be vain! Woodhouselee. What dread I feel when I revolve the dayI left my mistress, sad, without repose,My heart too with her: and my fond thought knowsNought on which gladlier, oft'ner it can stay.Again my fancy doth her form portrayMeek among beauty's train, like to some roseMidst meaner flowers; nor joy nor grief she shows;Not with misfortune prest but with dismay.Then were thrown by her custom'd cheerfulness,Her pearls, her chaplets, and her gay attire,Her song, her laughter, and her mild address;Thus doubtingly I quitted her I love:Now dark ideas, dreams, and bodings direRaise terrors, which Heaven grant may groundless prove! Nott.
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