The Poetry Corner

To Laura In Death. Sonnet XVII.

By Francesco Petrarca (Petrarch)

N mai pietosa madre al caro figlio. HER COUNSEL ALONE AFFORDS HIM RELIEF. Ne'er did fond mother to her darling son, Or zealous spouse to her belovd mate, Sage counsel give, in perilous estate, With such kind caution, in such tender tone, As gives that fair one, who, oft looking down On my hard exile from her heavenly seat, With wonted kindness bends upon my fate Her brow, as friend or parent would have done: Now chaste affection prompts her speech, now fear, Instructive speech, that points what several ways To seek or shun, while journeying here below; Then all the ills of life she counts, and prays My soul ere long may quit this terrene sphere: And by her words alone I'm soothed and freed from woe. NOTT. Ne'er to the son, in whom her age is blest, The anxious mother--nor to her loved lord The wedded dame, impending ill to ward, With careful sighs so faithful counsel press'd, As she, who, from her high eternal rest, Bending--as though my exile she deplored-- With all her wonted tenderness restored, And softer pity on her brow impress'd! Now with a mother's fears, and now as one Who loves with chaste affection, in her speech She points what to pursue and what to shun! Our years retracing of long, various grief, Wooing my soul at higher good to reach, And while she speaks, my bosom finds relief! DACRE.