University of Virginia Library

SONNET

OM CECCO ANGIOLIERI

In absence from Becchina

I'm better skill'd to frolic on a bed
Than any man that goes upon two feet;
And so, when I and certain moneys meet,
You'll fancy with what joys I shall be fed.
Meanwhile (alas!) I can but long instead
To be within her arms held close and sweet
To whom without reserve and past retreat
My soul and body and heart are subjected.
For often, when my mind is all distraught
With this whereof I make my boast, I pass
The day in deaths which never seem enough;
And all my blood within is boiling hot,
Yet I've less strength than running water has;
And this shall last as long as I'm in love.