'Lo
dì che han detto a' dolci amici addio.' — Dante
'Amor, con quanto sforzo oggi mi vinci!' — Petrarca
Come back to me, who wait and watch for you:—
Or come not yet, for it is over then,
And long it is before
you come again,
So far between my pleasures are and few.
While, when you come not, what I do I do
Thinking
'Now when he comes,' my sweetest 'when?:'
For one man is my world of all the men
This wide world holds; O
love, my world is you.
Howbeit, to meet you grows almost a pang
Because the pang of parting comes so
soon;
My hope hangs waning, waxing like a moon
Between the heavenly days on which we meet:
Ah me,
but where are now the songs I sang
When life was sweet because you called them sweet?
'Era
già l'oa che volge il desio.' — Dante
'Ricorro al tempo ch'io vi vidi prima.' — Petrarca
I wish I could remember, that first day,
First hour, first moment of your meeting me,
If bright or dim the
season, it might be
Summer or Winter for aught that I can say;
So unrecorded did it slip away,
So blind
was I to see and to foresee,
So dull to mark the budding of my tree
That would not blossom yet for many
a May.
If only I could recollect it, such
A day of days! I let it come and go
As traceless as a thaw of bygone
snow;
It seemed to me so little, meant so much;
If only now I could recall that touch,
First touch of hand in
hand—Did one but know!
'O
ombre vane, fuor che ne l'aspetto!' — Dante
'Immaginata guida la conduce.' — Petrarca
I dream of you to wake: would that I might
Dream of you and not wake but slumber on;
Nor find with dreams
the dear companion gone,
As Summer ended Summer birds take flight.
In happy dreams I hold you full in
sight,
I blush again who waking look so wan;
Brighter than sunniest day that ever shone,
In happy dreams
your smile makes day of night.
Thus only in a dream we are at one,
The faith that maketh rich who take
or give;
If thus to sleep is sweeter than to wake,
To die were surely sweeter than to live,
Though there be
nothing new beneath the sun.