Petrarch - Sestina VIII lyrics

SHE IS MOVED NEITHER BY HIS VERSES NOR HIS TEARS When music warbles from each thorn, And Zephyr's dewy wings Sweep the young flowers; what time the morn Her crimson radiance flings: Then, as the smiling year renews, I feel renew'd Love's tender pain; Renew'd is Laura's cold disdain; And I for comfort court the weeping muse. Oh! could my sighs in accents flow So musically lorn, That thou might'st catch my am'rous woe, And cease, proud Maid! thy scorn: Yet, ere within thy icy breast The smallest spark of pa**ion's found, Winter's cold temples shall be bound With all the blooms that paint spring's glowing vest. The drops that bathe the grief-dew'd eye, The love-impa**ion'd strain To move thy flinty bosom try Full oft;—but, ah! in vain Would tears, and melting song avail; As vainly might the silken breeze, That bends the flowers, that fans the trees, Some rugged rock's tremendous brow a**ail. Both gods and men alike are sway'd By Love, as poets tell;— And I, when flowers in every shade Their bursting gems reveal, First felt his all-subduing power: While Laura knows not yet the smart; Nor heeds the tortures of my heart, My prayers, my plaints, and sorrow's pearly shower! Thy wrongs, my soul! with patience bear, While life shall warm this clay; And soothing sounds to Laura's ear My numbers shall convey; Numbers with forceful magic charm All nature o'er the frost-bound earth, Wake summer's fragrant buds to birth, And the fierce serpent of its rage disarm. The blossom'd shrubs in smiles are drest, Now laughs his purple plain; And shall the nymph a foe profest To tenderness remain? But oh! what solace shall I find, If fortune dooms me yet to bear The frowns of my relentless Fair, Save with soft moan to vex the pitying wind? In baffling nets the light-wing'd gale I'd fetter as it blows, The vernal rose that scents the vale I'd cull on wintery snows; Still I'd ne'er hope that mind to move Which dares defy the wiles of verse, and Love. Anon. 1777.