Translations. - Milton's Italian Poems. V.
Certes, my lady sweet, your blessed eyes-- It cannot be but that they are my sun; As strong they smite me as he smites upon The man whose way o'er Libyan desert lies, The while a vapour hot doth me surprise From that side springing where my pain doth won: Perchance accustomed lovers--I am none And know not--in their speech call such things sighs: A part shut in, sore vexed, itself conceals, And shakes my bosom; part, undisciplined, Breaks forth, and all around to ice congeals; But that which to mine eyes the way doth find, Makes all my nights in silent showers abound, Until my dawn[1] returns, with roses crowned.
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"Certes, my lady sweet, your blessed eyes--..."
This evocative piece by George MacDonald, titled "Translations. - Milton's Italian Poems. V.", represents a masterful exploration of classic. The lines capture a profound emotional resonance... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...