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C.D. Warner, et al., comp.  The Library of the World’s Best Literature.
An Anthology in Thirty Volumes.  1917.
 
He Paints the Beauties of Laura, and his Unalterable Love
By Petrarch (1304–1374)
 
“Erano i capei d’ oro all’ aura sparsi”

Anonymous Translation: Oxford, 1795

LOOSE to the breeze her golden tresses flowed,
  Wildly in thousand mazy ringlets blown,
  And from her eyes unconquered glances shone,
Those glances now so sparingly bestowed.
And true or false, meseemed some signs she showed        5
  As o’er her cheek soft pity’s hue was thrown;
  I, whose whole breast with love’s soft food was sown,
What wonder if at once my bosom glowed?
Graceful she moved, with more than mortal mien,
  In form an angel; and her accents won        10
    Upon the ear with more than human sound.
  A spirit heavenly pure, a living sun,
Was what I saw; and if no more ’twere seen,
    T’ unbend the bow will never heal the wound.
 
 
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