| Andrew Macphail, comp. The Book of Sorrow. 1916. | | | XXIV. Bitter Sorrow
Grief | | By Francesco Redi (1626–1697) |
| | Translated by Edmund Gosse
SWEET Ladies, who to Love your hearts incline, | |
| And hand in hand walk down compassion’s way, | |
| Pause here an hour and weep with me and say | |
| If ever there was sorrow like to mine! | |
| My Lady had a heart that was the shrine | 5 |
| Of every splendid truth that scorns decay, | |
| And round about her glorious limbs did play | |
| Transcendent bloom, and from her eyes did shine | |
| Such lights as flash about the aurioled head | |
| Of some divine fair angel in God’s choir, | 10 |
| And all her soul was like an altar-fire | |
| With faith and love, and round her life was shed | |
| The silent chrism of innocent desire | |
| And godlike grace! Sweet Ladies, she is dead! | | | | |
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