| Samuel Waddington, comp. The Sonnets of Europe. 1888. | | | | Dreams Bore My Fancy | | By Francesco Petrarca (1304–1374) |
| | Translated by Thomas Wentworth Higginson
Levommi il mio pensiero
DREAMS bore my fancy to that region where | |
| She dwells whom here I seek, but cannot see. | |
| ’Mid those who in the loftiest heaven be | |
| I looked on her, less haughty and more fair. | |
| She touched my hand, she said, “Within this sphere, | 5 |
| If hope deceive not, thou shalt dwell with me: | |
| I filled thy life with war’s wild agony; | |
| Mine own day closed ere evening could appear. | |
| My bliss no human brain can understand; | |
| I wait for thee alone, and that fair veil | 10 |
| Of beauty thou dost love shall wear again.” | |
| Why was she silent then, why dropped my hand | |
| Ere those delicious tones could quite avail | |
| To bid my mortal soul in heaven remain? | | | | |
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