Sonnet XLVI.
L' arbor gentil che forte amai molt' anni. IMPRECATION AGAINST THE LAUREL. The graceful tree I loved so long and well, Ere its fair boughs in scorn my flame declined, Beneath its shade encouraged my poor mind To bud and bloom, and 'mid its sorrow swell. But now, my heart secure from such a spell, Alas, from friendly it has grown unkind! My thoughts entirely to one end confined, Their painful sufferings how I still may tell. What should he say, the sighing slave of love, To whom my later rhymes gave hope of bliss, Who for that laurel has lost all--but this? May poet never pluck thee more, nor Jove Exempt; but may the sun still hold in hate On each green leaf till blight and blackness wait. MACGREGOR.
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"L' arbor gentil che forte amai molt' anni...."
Exploring the themes of classic, Francesco Petrarca (Petrarch) delivers a powerful performance in "Sonnet XLVI."... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...