University of Virginia Library


212

SON. IV.

[In truth I feel my sun in those fair eyes]

In truth I feel my sun in those fair eyes,
So strongly strike they, like that powerful ray,
Which falls with all the violence of day
On Lybia's sands—and oft, as there, arise
Hot wasting vapours from the source where lies
My secret pain; yet, haply, those may say,
Who talk love's language, these are only sighs,
That the soft ardors of the soul betray.
 

The concetti of the Italian in the conclusion of this Sonnet were so obstinate, that it seemed scarce possible to reduce them into any reputable form of translation. Such trifling liberties as the translator shall appear to have taken with these Poems, must be imputed to a desire of getting over blemishes of the same kind.