The Poetry Corner

Sonnet CXLII.

By Francesco Petrarca (Petrarch)

Quando mi vene innanzi il tempo e 'l loco. RECOLLECTIONS OF EARLY LOVE. The time and scene where I a slave became When I remember, and the knot so dear Which Love's own hand so firmly fasten'd here, Which made my bitter sweet, my grief a game; My heart, with fuel stored, is, as a flame Of those soft sighs familiar to mine ear, So lit within, its very sufferings cheer; On these I live, and other aid disclaim. That sun, alone which beameth for my sight, With his strong rays my ruin'd bosom burns Now in the eve of life as in its prime, And from afar so gives me warmth and light, Fresh and entire, at every hour, returns On memory the knot, the scene, the time. MACGREGOR.