II.
En cantarey de Amor taõ docemente,
(Particular Proëm of the Love-songs, Petrarch, I. 87).
My song of Love I will so sweetly sing,
In such fair concord of concerted phrase,
That twice a thousand chances Love displays
Shall breasts unmovèd with emotion wring.
I'll so do Love new Life to all shall bring,
Limning nice secrets in a thousand ways,
Soft angers, sighs that yearn for bygone days,
Foolhardy Daring, Absence and her sting.
Yet, Ladye! of that honest open scorn
Shown by your eye-glance, blandly rigorous,
I must content me saying minor part:
To sing the graces which your geste adorn,
Your lofty composition marvellous,
Here lack me Genius, Lere, and Poet-art.
III.
Com grandes esperanças ja cantey,
(Petrarch, I. 144-145; also Pietro Bembo
Whilere I sang my song with hope so high
Might win the godheads in Olympus-wone;
Then for my singing 'gan I weep and moan,
And now for weeping yet again weep I.
When viewed my Past with meditative eye
Costs me the memory such high price, I own
That grief of seeing griefs so woebegone
Is greatest grievance of my griefs gone by.
