The Poetry Corner

To Laura In Death. Sonnet X.

By Francesco Petrarca (Petrarch)

Nell' et sua pi bella e pi fiorita. HE DESIRES TO DIE, THAT HIS SOUL MAY BE WITH HER, AS HIS THOUGHTS ALREADY ARE. E'en in youth's fairest flower, when Love's dear sway Is wont with strongest power our hearts to bind, Leaving on earth her fleshly veil behind, My life, my Laura, pass'd from me away; Living, and fair, and free from our vile clay, From heaven she rules supreme my willing mind: Alas! why left me in this mortal rind That first of peace, of sin that latest day? As my fond thoughts her heavenward path pursue, So may my soul glad, light, and ready be To follow her, and thus from troubles flee. Whate'er delays me as worst loss I rue: Time makes me to myself but heavier grow: Death had been sweet to-day three years ago! MACGREGOR.