To Laura In Death. Sonnet LXVIII.
Conobbi, quanto il ciel gli occhi m' aperse. HER PRAISES ARE, COMPARED WITH HER DESERTS, BUT AS A DROP TO THE OCEAN. So far as to mine eyes its light heaven show'd, So far as love and study train'd my wings, Novel and beautiful but mortal things From every star I found on her bestow'd: So many forms in rare and varied mode Of heavenly beauty from immortal springs My panting intellect before me brings, Sunk my weak sight before their dazzling load. Hence, whatsoe'er I spoke of her or wrote, Who, at God's right, returns me now her prayers, Is in that infinite abyss a mote: For style beyond the genius never dares; Thus, though upon the sun man fix his sight, He seeth less as fiercer burns its light. MACGREGOR.
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"Conobbi, quanto il ciel gli occhi m' aperse...."
Francesco Petrarca (Petrarch)'s contribution to classic is further solidified by the brilliance found in "To Laura In Death. Sonnet LXVIII."... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...