To Laura In Death. Sonnet XXXIX.
Io pensava assai destro esser sull' ale. UNWORTHY TO HAVE LOOKED UPON HER, HE IS STILL MORE SO TO ATTEMPT HER PRAISES. I thought me apt and firm of wing to rise (Not of myself, but him who trains us all) In song, to numbers fitting the fair thrall Which Love once fasten'd and which Death unties. Slow now and frail, the task too sorely tries, As a great weight upon a sucker small: "Who leaps," I said, "too high may midway fall: Man ill accomplishes what Heaven denies." So far the wing of genius ne'er could fly-- Poor style like mine and faltering tongue much less-- As Nature rose, in that rare fabric, high. Love follow'd Nature with such full success In gracing her, no claim could I advance Even to look, and yet was bless'd by chance. MACGREGOR.
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"Io pensava assai destro esser sull' ale...."
Exploring the themes of classic, Francesco Petrarca (Petrarch) delivers a powerful performance in "To Laura In Death. Sonnet XXXIX."... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...