Page:Dante and His Circle, with the Italian Poets Preceding Him.djvu/142

 

III.

 

Sonnet.

To certain Ladies; when Beatrice was lamenting her Father's Death.^[1]

Whence come you, all of you so sorrowful?
An it may please you, speak for courtesy.
I fear for my dear lady's sake, lest she
Have made you to return thus filled with dule.
O gentle ladies, be not hard to school
In gentleness, but to some pause agree,
And something of my lady say to me.
For with a little my desire is full.
Howbeit it be a heavy thing to hear:
For Love now utterly has thrust me forth,
With hand for ever lifted, striking fear.
See if I be not worn unto the earth;
Yea, and my spirit must fail from me here.
If, when you speak, your words are of no worth.

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1. See the Vita Nuova, at page 60.