 | The white sail and other poems |  |
[I. Within my bosom, from long apathy]
‘Io mi sentii svegliar dentro allo core.’
Within my bosom, from long apathy,
Love's mood of tenderness extreme awoke,
And spying him far off, mine eye bespoke
Love's self, so joyous scarce it seemèd he,
Crying: ‘Now, verily, pay thy vows to me!’
And bright thro' every word his smile outbroke.
Then stood we twain, I in my liege lord's yoke,
Watching the path he came by, soon to see
The Lady Joan and Lady Beatrice
Nearing our very nook, each marvel close
Following her peer, all beauty else above;
And Love said, in a voice like Memory's:
‘The first is Spring; but she that with her goes,
My counterpart, bears my own name of Love!’
| The white sail and other poems | |