No More Learning

Who pierced me in my side she heals the wound,
For whom in heart more than in ink I write;
Who quickens me or kills,
And in one instant freezes me or fires.

ANON.

[Footnote R: This, the only known version, is included simply from a
wish to represent the original completely, the poem being almost
untranslateable into English verse. Italian critics are much divided as
to its object. One of the most eminent (Bembo) considers it to be
nothing more than an unconnected string of proverbs. ]




MADRIGALE III.

_Nova angeletta sovra l' ale accorta. _

HE ALLEGORICALLY DESCRIBES THE ORIGIN OF HIS PASSION.


From heaven an angel upon radiant wings,
New lighted on that shore so fresh and fair,
To which, so doom'd, my faithful footstep clings:
Alone and friendless, when she found me there,
Of gold and silk a finely-woven net,
Where lay my path, 'mid seeming flowers she set:
Thus was I caught, and, for such sweet light shone
From out her eyes, I soon forgot to moan.

MACGREGOR.




SONNET LXXXIV.

_Non veggio ove scampar mi possa omai. _

AFTER FIFTEEN YEARS HER EYES ARE MORE POWERFUL THAN AT FIRST.


No hope of respite, of escape no way,
Her bright eyes wage such constant havoc here;
Alas! excess of tyranny, I fear,
My doting heart, which ne'er has truce, will slay:
Fain would I flee, but ah!
their amorous ray,
Which day and night on memory rises clear,
Shines with such power, in this the fifteenth year,
They dazzle more than in love's early day.
So wide and far their images are spread
That wheresoe'er I turn I alway see
Her, or some sister-light on hers that fed.
Springs such a wood from one fair laurel tree,
That my old foe, with admirable skill,
Amid its boughs misleads me at his will.

MACGREGOR.




SONNET LXXXV.

_Avventuroso piu d' altro terreno. _

HE APOSTROPHIZES THE SPOT WHERE LAURA FIRST SALUTED HIM.


Ah, happiest spot of earth! in this sweet place
Love first beheld my condescending fair
Retard her steps, to smile with courteous grace
On me, and smiling glad the ambient air.
The deep-cut image, wrought with skilful care,
Time shall from hardest adamant efface,
Ere from my mind that smile it shall erase,
Dear to my soul! which memory planted there.
Oft as I view thee, heart-enchanting soil!
With amorous awe I'll seek--delightful toil!
Where yet some traces of her footsteps lie.
And if fond Love still warms her generous breast,
Whene'er you see her, gentle friend! request
The tender tribute of a tear--a sigh.