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Poem	SONNET XXXIV. Levommi il mio pensier in parte ov' era. SOARING IN IMAGINATION TO HEAVEN, HE MEETS LAURA, AND IS HAPPY. Fond fancy raised me to the spot, where straysShe, whom I seek but find on earth no more:There, fairer still and humbler than before,I saw her, in the third heaven's blessèd maze.She took me by the hand, and "Thou shalt trace,If hope not errs," she said, "this happy shore:I, I am she, thy breast with slights who tore,And ere its evening closed my day's brief space.What human heart conceives, my joys exceed;Thee only I expect, and (what remainBelow) the charms, once objects of thy love."Why ceased she? Ah! my captive hand why freed?Such of her soft and hallow'd tones the chain,From that delightful heaven my soul could scarcely move. Wrangham. [Pg 262] Thither my ecstatic thought had rapt me, whereShe dwells, whom still on earth I seek in vain;And there, with those whom the third heavens contain,I saw her, much more kind, and much more fair.My hand she took, and said: "Within this sphere,If hope deceive me not, thou shalt againWith me reside: who caused thy mortal painAm I, and even in summer closed my year.My bliss no human thought can understand:Thee only I await; and, that erewhileYou held so dear, the veil I left behind."—She ceased—ah why? Why did she loose my hand?For oh! her hallow'd words, her roseate smileIn heaven had well nigh fix'd my ravish'd mind! Charlemont.
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