C.D. Warner, et al., comp. The Library of the World’s Best Literature.
An Anthology in Thirty Volumes. 1917.
His Only Desire Is Again to be with her
By Petrarch (13041374)
Translation of Dr. Morehead
A
That soothed my soul amid Love’s fiercest fire,
And she for whom I wept and tuned my lyre
Has gone, alas!—but left my lyre, my tears:
Gone is the face, whose holy look endears;
But in my heart, ere yet it did retire,
Left the sweet radiance of its eyes entire;
My heart? Ah, no! not mine! for to the spheres
Of light she bore it captive, soaring high,
In angel robe triumphant, and now stands
Crowned with the laurel wreath of chastity:
Oh, could I throw aside these earthly bands
That tie me down where wretched mortals sigh,
To join blest spirits in celestial lands!