The Poetical Works of John Payne Definitive Edition in Two Volumes |
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FROM BOCCACCIO. |
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The Poetical Works of John Payne | ||
185
FROM BOCCACCIO.
TO PETRARCH DEAD.
NOW, dear my lord, unto those realms of lightThou'rt mounted, whither looketh still to fare
Each soul of God elect unto that share,
On its departure from this world of spite;
Now art thou where full oft the longing spright
Drew thee, with Laura to commune whilere:
Now art thou come whereas my lovely fair
Fiammetta sitteth with her in God's sight.
Yea, with Sennuccio , Cino , Dante, thou
Assured of ease enternal dwellest now,
Things seeing our intelligence above.
Oh, in this world if I was dear to thee,
Draw thou me straight to thee, where I may see,
Joyful, her face who fired me first with love.
Sennuccio del Bene, a fourteenth-century Florentine poet and a friend of Petrarch, who celebrated him in his verse.
TO HIS OWN SOUL, EXHORTING IT TO REPENTANCE.
TURN, turn thee, weary soul: nay, hearken me.Turn thee and note where thou hast run astray,
The course of idle lusts ensuing aye,
And in the fosse thy feet enmired thou'lt see.
Wake, ere thou fall! What dost thou? Presently
Return to Him, Him who the true allay
To who will giv'th and from the sore affray
186
Return thee unto Him and thy last years
Yield, at the least, unto His will and gree,
Mourning the ills done in the days bygone.
Let the late season waken not thy fears;
He will accept thee, doing unto thee
That which He did erst with the last hired one.
OF THREE DAMSELS IN A MEADOW.
ABOUT a well-spring, in a little mead,Of tender grasses full and flow'rets fair,
There sat three youngling angels, as it were
Their loves recounting; and for each, indeed,
Her sweet face shaded, 'gainst the noontide need,
A spray of green, that bound her golden hair;
Whilst, in and out by turns, a frolic air
The two clear colours blended at its heed.
And one, after a little, thus heard I
Say to her mates, “Lo, if by chance there lit
The lovers of each one of us hereby,
Should we flee hence for fear of quiet sit?”
Whereto the twain made answer, “Who should fly
From such a fortune sure were scant of wit.”
The Poetical Works of John Payne | ||