TRANSLATIONS FROM PETRARCH.
IN VITA. LXVII.
Since thou and I have proven many a time
That all our hope betrays us and deceives,
To that consummate good which never grieves
Uplift thy heart, towards a happier clime.
Thifl life is like a field of flowering thyme,
Amidst the herbs and grass the serpent lives;
If aught unto the sight brief pleasure gives,
'T is but to snare the sold with treacherous lime.
So, wouhlst thou keep thy spirit free from cloud,
A tranquil habit to thy latest day.
Follow the few, and not the vulgar crowd.
Yet mayest thou urge, " Brother, the very way
Thou showest us, wherefrom thy footsteps proud
(And never more than now) so oft did stray,"
IN VITA LXXVI.
Sennuccio, I would have thee know the shame
That 's dealt to me, and what a life is mine.
Even as of yore, I struggle, burn and pine,
Laura transports me, I am still the same.
All meekness here, all pride she there became,
Now harsh, now kind, now cruel, now benign;
