Sonnet CXXII.
By Francesco Petrarca (Petrarch)
Non fur mai Giove e Cesare s mossi.
LAURA IN TEARS.
High Jove to thunder ne'er was so intent,
So resolute great Csar ne'er to strike,
That pity had not quench'd the ire of both,
And from their hands the accustom'd weapons shook.
Madonna wept: my Lord decreed that I
Should see her then, and there her sorrows hear;
So joy, desire should fill me to the brim,
Thrilling my very marrow and my bones.
Love show'd to me, nay, sculptured on my heart,
That sweet and sparkling tear, and those soft words
Wrote with a diamond on its inmost core,
Where with his constant and ingenious keys
He still returneth often, to draw thence
True tears of mine and long and heavy sighs.
MACGREGOR.