Page:Sonnets and Ballate of Guido Cavalcanti.djvu/69

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Sonnets

SONNET XX

So vilely is this soul of mine confounded
By strife grown audible within the heart,
That if toward her some frail Love but start
With unaccustomed speed, she swoons astounded.

She is as one in whom no power aboundeth;
Lo, she forsakes my heart through fearfulness,
And any seeing her, how prone she is,
Would deem her one whom death’s sure cloak surroundeth.

Through th’ eyes, as through the breach in wall, her foes
Came first to attack and shattered all defence,
Then spoiled the mind with their down-rained blows.

Whoe’er he be who holdeth Joy most dose
Would, should he see my spirit going hence,
Weep for the pity and make no pretence.

Cf. Sonnet i.

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