BOYD.

PART III.

Io non sapea da tal vista levarme.

Still on the warrior band I fix'd my view, But now a different troop my notice drew: The sage Palladian tribe, a nobler train, Whose toils deserve a more exalted strain. Plato majestic in the front appear'd, Where wisdom's sacred hand her ensign rear'd. Celestial blazonry! by heaven bestow'd, Which, waving high, before the vaward glow'd: Then came the Stagyrite, whose mental ray Pierced through all nature like the shafts of day; And he that, by the unambitious name, Lover of wisdom, chose to bound his fame. Then Socrates and Xenophon were seen; With them a bard of more than earthly mien, Whom every muse of Jove's immortal choir Bless'd with a portion of celestial fire: From ancient Argos to the Phrygian bound His never-dying strains were borne around On inspiration's wing, and hill and dale Echoed the notes of Ilion's mournful tale. The woes of Thetis, and Ulysses' toils, His mighty mind recover'd from the spoils Of envious time, and placed in lasting light The trophies ransom'd from oblivion's night The Mantuan bard, responsive to his song, Co-rival of his glory, walk'd along. The next with new surprise my notice drew, Where'er he pass'd spontaneous flowerets grew, Fit emblems of his style; and close behind The great Athenian at his lot repined; Which doom'd him, like a secondary star, To yield precedence in the wordy war; Though like the bolts of Jove that shake the spheres, He lighten'd in their eyes, and thunder'd in their ears. The assembly felt the shock, the immortal sound, His Attic rival's fainter accents drown'd. But now so many candidates for fame In countless crowds and gay confusion came, That Memory seem'd her province to resign, Perplex'd and lost amid the lengthen'd line. Yet Solon there I spied, for laws renown'd, Salubrious plants in clean and cultured ground; But noxious, if malignant hands infuse In their transmuted stems a baneful juice Amongst the Romans, Varro next I spied, The light of linguists, and our country's pride; Still nearer as he moved, the eye could trace A new attraction and a nameless grace. Livy I saw, with dark invidious frown Listening with pain to Sallust's loud renown; And Pliny there, profuse of life I found, Whom love of knowledge to the burning bound Led unawares; and there Plotinus' shade, Who dark Platonic truths in fuller light display'd: He, flying far to 'scape the coming pest, Was, when he seem'd secure, by death oppressed; That, fix'd by fate, before he saw the sun, The careful sophist strove in vain to shun. Hortensius, Crassus, Galba, next appear'd, Calvus and Antony, by Rome revered, The first with Pollio join'd, whose tongue profane Assail'd the fame of Cicero in vain. Thucydides, who mark'd distinct and clear The tardy round of many a bloody year, And, with a master's graphic skill, pourtray'd The fields, "whose summer dust with blood was laid;" And near Herodotus his ninefold roll display'd, Father of history; and Euclid's vest The heaven-taught symbols of that art express'd That measures matter, form, and empty space, And calculates the planets' heavenly race; And Porphyry, whose proud obdurate heart Was proof to mighty Truth's celestial dart; With sophistry assail'd the cause of God, And stood in arms against the heavenly code. Hippocrates, for healing arts renown'd, And half obscured within the dark profound; The pair, whom ignorance in ancient days Adorn'd like deities, with borrow'd rays. Galen was near, of Pergamus the boast, Whose skill retrieved the art so nearly lost. Then Anaxarchus came, who conquer'd pain; And he, whom pleasures strove to lure in vain From duty's path. And first in mournful mood The mighty soul of Archimedes stood; And sage Democritus I there beheld, Whose daring hand the light of vision quell'd, To shun the soul-seducing forms, that play On the rapt fancy in the beam of day: The gifts of fortune, too, he flung aside, By wisdom's wealth, a nobler store, supplied. There Hippias, too, I saw, who dared to claim For general science an unequall'd name. And him, whose doubtful mind and roving eye No certainty in truth itself could spy; With him who in a deep mysterious guise Her heavenly charms conceal'd from vulgar eyes. The frontless cynic next in rank I saw, Sworn foe to decency and nature's modest law. With him the sage, that mark'd, with dark disdain, His wealth consumed by rapine's lawless train; And glad that nothing now remain'd behind, To foster envy in a rival's mind, That treasure bought, which nothing can destroy, "The soul's calm sunshine, and the heart-felt joy." Then curious Dicaearchus met my view, Who studied nature with sagacious view. Quintilian next, and Seneca were seen, And Chaeronea's sage, of placid mien; All various in their taste and studious toils, But each adorn'd with Learning's splendid spoils. There, too, I saw, in universal jar, The tribes that spend their time in wordy war; And o'er the vast interminable deep Of knowledge, like conflicting tempests, sweep. For truth they never toil, but feed their pride With fuel by eternal strife supplied: No dragon of the wild with equal rage, Nor lions in nocturnal war, engage With hate so deadly, as the learn'd and wise, Who scan their own desert with partial eyes. Carneades, renown'd for logic skill, Who right or wrong, and true and false, at will Could turn and change, employ'd his fruitless pain To reconcile the fierce, contending train: But, ever as he toil'd, the raging pest Of pride, as knowledge grew, with equal speed increased. Then Epicurus, of sinister fame, Rebellious to the lord of nature, came; Who studied to deprive the soaring soul Of her bright world of hope beyond the pole; A mole-ey'd race their hapless guide pursued, And blindly still the vain assault renew'd. Dark Metrodorus next sustain'd the cause, With Aristippus, true to Pleasure's laws. Chrysippus next his subtle web disposed: Zeno alternate spread his hand, and closed; To show how eloquence expands the soul, And logic boasts a close and nervous whole. And there Cleanthes drew the mighty line That led his pupils on, with heart divine, Through time's fallacious joys, by Virtue's road, To the bright palace of the sovereign good.— But here the weary Muse forsakes the throng, Too numerous for the bounds of mortal song.

BOYD.



THE TRIUMPH OF TIME.

Dell' aureo albergo con l' Aurora innanzi.

Behind Aurora's wheels the rising sun His voyage from his golden shrine begun, With such ethereal speed, as if the Hours Had caught him slumb'ring in her rosy bowers. With lordly eye, that reach'd the world's extreme, Methought he look'd, when, gliding on his beam, That winged power approach'd that wheels his car In its wide annual range from star to star, Measuring vicissitude; till, now more near, Methought these thrilling accents met my ear:— "New laws must be observed if mortals claim, Spite of the lapse of time, eternal fame. Those laws have lost their force that Heaven decreed, And I my circle run with fruitless speed; If fame's loud breath the slumb'ring dust inspire, And bid to live with never-dying fire, My power, that measures mortal things, is cross'd, And my long glories in oblivion lost. If mortals on yon planet's shadowy face, Can match the tenor of my heavenly race, I strive with fruitless speed from year to year To keep precedence o'er a lower sphere. In vain yon flaming coursers I prepare, In vain the watery world and ambient air Their vigour feeds, if thus, with angels' flight A mortal can o'ertake the race of light! Were you a lesser planet, doom'd to run A shorter journey round a nobler sun; Ranging among yon dusky orbs below, A more degrading doom I could not know: Now spread your swiftest wings, my steeds of flame, We must not yield to man's ambitious aim. With emulation's noblest fires I glow, And soon that reptile race that boast below Bright Fame's conducting lamp, that seems to vie With my incessant journeys round the sky, And gains, or seems to gain, increasing light, Yet shall its glories sink in gradual night. But I am still the same; my course began Before that dusky orb, the seat of man, Was built in ambient air: with constant sway I lead the grateful change of night and day, To one ethereal track for ever bound, And ever treading one eternal round."— And now, methought, with more than mortal ire, He seem'd to lash along his steeds of fire; And shot along the air with glancing ray, Swift as a falcon darting on its prey; No planet's swift career could match his speed, That seem'd the power of fancy to exceed. The courier of the sky I mark'd with dread, As by degrees the baseless fabric fled That human power had built, while high disdain I felt within to see the toiling train Striving to seize each transitory thing That fleets away on dissolution's wing; And soonest from the firmest grasp recede, Like airy forms, with tantalizing speed. O mortals! ere the vital powers decay, Or palsied eld obscures the mental ray, Raise your affections to the things above, Which time or fickle chance can never move. Had you but seen what I despair to sing, How fast his courser plied the flaming wing With unremitted speed, the soaring mind Had left his low terrestrial cares behind. But what an awful change of earth and sky All in a moment pass'd before my eye! Now rigid winter stretch'd her brumal reign With frown Gorgonean over land and main; And Flora now her gaudy mantle spread, And many a blushing rose adorn'd her bed: The momentary seasons seem'd to fleet From bright solstitial dews to winter's driving sleet. In circle multiform, and swift career: A wondrous tale, untold to mortal ear Before: yet reason's calm unbiass'd view Must soon pronounce the seeming fable true, When deep remorse for many a wasted spring Still haunts the frighted soul on demon wing. Fond hope allured me on with meteor flight, And Love my fancy fed with vain delight, Chasing through fairy fields her pageants gay. But now, at last, a clear and steady ray, From reason's mirror sent, my folly shows, And on my sight the hideous image throws Of what I am—a mind eclipsed and lost, By vice degraded from its noble post But yet, e'en yet, the mind's elastic spring Buoys up my powers on resolution's wing, While on the flight of time, with rueful gaze Intent, I try to thread the backward maze, And husband what remains, a scanty space. Few fleeting hours, alas! have pass'd away, Since a weak infant in the lap I lay; For what is human life but one uncertain day! Now hid by flying vapours, dark and cold, And brighten'd now with gleams of sunny gold, That mock the gazer's eye with gaudy show, And leave the victim to substantial woe: Yet hope can live beneath the stormy sky, And empty pleasures have their pinions ply; And frantic pride exalts the lofty brow, Nor marks the snares of death that lurk below. Uncertain, whether now the shaft of fate Sings on the wind, or heaven prolongs my date. I see my hours run on with cruel speed, And in my doom the fate of all I read; A certain doom, which nature's self must feel When the dread sentence checks the mundane wheel. Go! court the smiles of Hope, ye thoughtless crew! Her fairy scenes disclose an ample view To brainless men. But Wisdom o'er the field Casts her keen glance, and lifts her beamy shield To meet the point of Fate, that flies afar, And with stern vigilance expects the war. Perhaps in vain my admonitions fall, Yet still the Muse repeats the solemn call; Nor can she see unmoved your senses drown'd By Circe's deadly spells in sleep profound. She cannot see the flying seasons roll In dread succession to the final goal, And sweep the tribes of men so fast away, To Stygian darkness or eternal day, With unconcern.—Oh! yet the doom repeal Before your callous hearts forget to feel; E'er Penitence foregoes her fruitless toil, Or hell's black regent claims his human spoil Oh, haste! before the fatal arrows fly That send you headlong to the nether sky When down the gulf the sons of folly go In sad procession to the seat of woe! Thus deeply musing on the rapid round Of planetary speed, in thought profound I stood, and long bewail'd my wasted hours, My vain afflictions, and my squander'd powers: When, in deliberate march, a train was seen In silent order moving o'er the green; A band that seem'd to hold in high disdain The desolating power of Time's resistless reign: Their names were hallow'd in the Muse's song, Wafted by fame from age to age along, High o'er oblivion's deep, devouring wave, Where millions find an unrefunding grave. With envious glance the changeful power beheld The glorious phalanx which his power repell'd, And faster now the fiery chariot flew, While Fame appear'd the rapid flight to rue, And labour'd some to save. But, close behind, I heard a voice, which, like the western wind, That whispers softly through the summer shade, These solemn accents to mine ear convey'd:— "Man is a falling flower; and Fame in vain Strives to protract his momentaneous reign Beyond his bounds, to match the rolling tide, On whose dread waves the long olympiads ride, Till, fed by time, the deep procession grows, And in long centuries continuous flows; For what the power of ages can oppose? Though Tempe's rolling flood, or Hebrus claim Renown, they soon shall live an empty name. Where are their heroes now, and those who led The files of war by Xanthus' gory bed? Or Tuscan Tyber's more illustrious band, Whose conquering eagles flew o'er sea and land? What is renown?—a gleam of transient light, That soon an envious cloud involves in night, While passing Time's malignant hands diffuse On many a noble name pernicious dews. Thus our terrestrial glories fade away, Our triumphs pass the pageants of a day; Our fields exchange their lords, our kingdoms fall, And thrones are wrapt in Hades' funeral pall Yet virtue seldom gains what vice had lost, And oft the hopes of good desert are cross'd. Not wealth alone, but mental stores decay, And, like the gifts of Mammon, pass away; Nor wisdom, wealth, nor fortune can withstand His desolating march by sea and land; Nor prayers, nor regal power his wheels restrain, Till he has ground us down to dust again. Though various are the titles men can plead, Some for a time enjoy the glorious meed That merit claims; yet unrelenting fate On all the doom pronounces soon or late; And whatsoe'er the vulgar think or say, Were not your lives thus shorten'd to a day, Your eyes would see the consummating power His countless millions at a meal devour." And reason's voice my stubborn mind subdued; Conviction soon the solemn words pursued; I saw all mortal glory pass away, Like vernal snows beneath the rising ray; And wealth, and power, and honour, strive in vain To 'scape the laws of Time's despotic reign. Though still to vulgar eyes they seem to claim A lot conspicuous in the lists of Fame, Transient as human joys; to feeble age They love to linger on this earthly stage, And think it cruel to be call'd away On the faint morn of life's disastrous day. Yet ah! how many infants on the breast By Heaven's indulgence sink to endless rest! And oft decrepid age his lot bewails, Whom every ill of lengthen'd life assails. Hence sick despondence thinks the human lot A gift of fleeting breath too dearly bought: But should the voice of Fame's obstreperous blast From ages on to future ages last, E'en to the trump of doom,—how poor the prize Whose worth depends upon the changing skies! What time bestows and claims (the fleeting breath Of Fame) is but, at best, a second death— A death that none of mortal race can shun, That wastes the brood of time, and triumphs o'er the sun.

BOYD.



THE TRIUMPH OF ETERNITY.

Da poi che sotto 'l ciel cosa non vidi.

When all beneath the ample cope of heaven I saw, like clouds before the tempest driven, In sad vicissitude's eternal round, Awhile I stood in holy horror bound; And thus at last with self-exploring mind, Musing, I ask'd, "What basis I could find To fix my trust?" An inward voice replied, "Trust to the Almighty: He thy steps shall guide; He never fails to hear the faithful prayer, But worldly hope must end in dark despair." Now, what I am, and what I was, I know; I see the seasons in procession go With still increasing speed; while things to come, Unknown, unthought, amid the growing gloom Of long futurity, perplex my soul, While life is posting to its final goal. Mine is the crime, who ought with clearer light To watch the winged years' incessant flight; And not to slumber on in dull delay Till circling seasons bring the doomful day. But grace is never slow in that, I trust, To wake the mind, before I sink to dust, With those strong energies that lift the soul To scenes unhoped, unthought, above the pole. While thus I ponder'd, soon my working thought Once more that ever-changing picture brought Of sublunary things before my view, And thus I question'd with myself anew:— "What is the end of this incessant flight Of life and death, alternate day and night? When will the motion on these orbs impress'd Sink on the bosom of eternal rest?" At once, as if obsequious to my will, Another prospect shone, unmoved and still; Eternal as the heavens that glow'd above, A wide resplendent scene of light and love. The wheels of Phoebus from the zodiac turn'd; No more the nightly constellations burn'd; Green earth and undulating ocean roll'd Away, by some resistless power controll'd; Immensity conceived, and brought to birth A grander firmament, and more luxuriant earth. What wonder seized my soul when first I view'd How motionless the restless racer stood, Whose flying feet, with winged speed before, Still mark'd with sad mutation sea and shore. No more he sway'd the future and the past, But on the moveless present fix'd at last; As at a goal reposing from his toils, Like earth unclothed of all its vernal foils. Unvaried scene! where neither change nor fate, Nor care, nor sorrow, can our joys abate; Nor finds the light of thought resistance here, More than the sunbeams in a crystal sphere. But no material things can match their flight, In speed excelling far the race of light. Oh! what a glorious lot shall then be mine If Heaven to me these nameless joys assign! For there the sovereign good for ever reigns, Nor evil yet to come, nor present pains; No baleful birth of time its inmates fear, That comes, the burthen of the passing year; No solar chariot circles through the signs, And now too near, and now too distant, shines; To wretched man and earth's devoted soil Dispensing sad variety of toil. Oh! happy are the blessed souls that sing Loud hallelujahs in eternal ring! Thrice happy he, who late, at last shall find A lot in the celestial climes assign'd! He, led by grace, the auspicious ford explores, Where, cross the plains, the wintry torrent roars; That troublous tide, where, with incessant strife, Weak mortals struggle through, and call it life. In love with Vanity, oh, doubly blind Are they that final consolation find In things that fleet on dissolution's wing, Or dance away upon the transient ring Of seasons, as they roll. No sound they hear From that still voice that Wisdom's sons revere; No vestment they procure to keep them warm Against the menace of the wintry storm; But all exposed, in naked nature lie, A shivering crowd beneath the inclement sky, Of reason void, by every foe subdued, Self-ruin'd, self-deprived of sovereign good; Reckless of Him, whose universal sway, Matter, and all its various forms, obey; Whether they mix in elemental strife, Or meet in married calm, and foster life. His nature baffles all created mind, In earth or heaven, to fathom, or to find. One glimpse of glory on the saints bestow'd, With eager longings fills the courts of God For deeper views, in that abyss of light, While mortals slumber here, content with night: Though nought, we find, below the moon, can fill The boundless cravings of the human will. And yet, what fierce desire the fancy wings To gain a grasp of perishable things; Although one fleeting hour may scatter far The fruit of many a year's corroding care; Those spacious regions where our fancies roam, Pain'd by the past, expecting ills to come, In some dread moment, by the fates assign'd, Shall pass away, nor leave a rack behind; And Time's revolving wheels shall lose at last The speed that spins the future and the past; And, sovereign of an undisputed throne, Awful eternity shall reign alone. Then every darksome veil shall fleet away That hides the prospects of eternal day: Those cloud-born objects of our hopes and fears, Whose air-drawn forms deluded memory bears As of substantial things, away so fast Shall fleet, that mortals, at their speed aghast, Watching the change of all beneath the moon, Shall ask, what once they were, and will be soon? The time will come when every change shall cease, This quick revolving wheel shall rest in peace: No summer then shall glow, nor winter freeze; Nothing shall be to come, and nothing past, But an eternal now shall ever last. Though time shall be no more, yet space shall give A nobler theatre to love and live The winged courier then no more shall claim The power to sink or raise the notes of Fame, Or give its glories to the noontide ray: True merit then, in everlasting day, Shall shine for ever, as at first it shone At once to God and man and angels known. Happy are they who in this changing sphere Already have begun the bright career That reaches to the goal which, all in vain, The Muse would blazon in her feeble strain: But blest above all other blest is he Who from the trammels of mortality, Ere half the vital thread ran out, was free, Mature for Heaven; where now the matchless fair Preserves those features, that seraphic air, And all those mental charms that raised my mind, To judge of heaven while yet on earth confined. That soft attractive glance that won my heart When first my bosom felt unusual smart, Now beams, now glories, in the realms above, Fed by the eternal source of light and love. Then shall I see her as I first beheld, But lovelier far, and by herself excell'd; And I distinguish'd in the bands above Shall hear this plaudit in the choirs of love:— "Lo! this is he who sung in mournful strains For many years a lover's doubts and pains; Yet in this soul-expanding, sweet employ, A sacred transport felt above all vulgar joy." She too shall wonder at herself to hear Her praises ring around the radiant sphere: But of that hour it is not mine to know; To her, perhaps, the period of my woe Is manifest; for she my fate may find In the pure mirror of the eternal mind. To me it seems at hand a sure presage, Denotes my rise from this terrestrial stage; Then what I gain'd and lost below shall lie Suspended in the balance of the sky, And all our anxious sublunary cares Shall seem one tissue of Arachne's snares; And all the lying vanities of life, The sordid source of envy, hate, and strife, Ignoble as they are, shall then appear Before the searching beam of truth severe; Then souls, from sense refined, shall see the fraud That led them from the living way of God. From the dark dungeon of the human breast All direful secrets then shall rise confess'd, In honour multiplied—a dreadful show To hierarchies above, and saints below. Eternal reason then shall give her doom; And, sever'd wide, the tenants of the tomb Shall seek their portions with instinctive haste, Quick as the savage speeds along the waste. Then shall the golden hoard its trust betray, And they, that, mindless of that dreadful day, Boasted their wealth, its vanity shall know In the dread avenue of endless woe: While they whom moderation's wholesome rule Kept still unstain'd in Virtue's heavenly school, Who the calm sunshine of the soul beneath Enjoy'd, will share the triumph of the Faith.

These pageants five the world and I beheld, The sixth and last, I hope, in heaven reveal'd (If Heaven so will), when Time with speedy hand The scene despoils, and Death's funereal wand The triumph leads. But soon they both shall fall Under that mighty hand that governs all, While they who toil for true renown below, Whom envious Time and Death, a mightier foe, Relentless plunged in dark oblivion's womb, When virtue seem'd to seek the silent tomb, Spoil'd of her heavenly charms once more shall rise, Regain their beauty, and assert the skies; Leaving the dark sojourn of time beneath, And the wide desolated realms of Death. But she will early seek these glorious bounds, Whose long-lamented fall the world resounds In unison with me. And heaven will view That awful day her heavenly charms renew, When soul with body joins. Gebenna's strand Saw me enroll'd in Love's devoted band, And mark'd my toils through many hard campaigns And wounds, whose scars my memory yet retains. Blest is the pile that marks the hallow'd dust!— There, at the resurrection of the just, When the last trumpet with earth-shaking sound Shall wake her sleepers from their couch profound; Then, when that spotless and immortal mind In a material mould once more enshrined, With wonted charms shall wake seraphic love, How will the beatific sight improve Her heavenly beauties in the climes above!

BOYD.

[LINES 82-99.]

Happy those souls who now are on their way, Or shall hereafter, to attain that end, Theme of my argument, come when it will; And, 'midst the other fair, and fraught with grace, Most happy she whom Death has snatch'd away, On this side far the natural bound of life. The angel manners then will clearly shine, The meet and pure discourse, the chasten'd thought, Which nature planted in her youthful breast. Unnumber'd beauties, worn by time and death, Shall then return to their best state of bloom; And how thou hast bound me, love, will then be seen, Whence I by every finger shall be shown!— Behold who ever wept, and in his tears Was happier far than others in their smiles! And she, of whom I yet lamenting sing, Shall wonder at her own transcendant charms, Seeing herself far above all admired.

CHARLEMONT.



SONNET FOUND IN LAURA'S TOMB.

Qui reposan quei caste e felice ossa.

Here peaceful sleeps the chaste, the happy shade Of that pure spirit, which adorn'd this earth: Pure fame, true beauty, and transcendent worth, Rude stone! beneath thy rugged breast are laid. Death sudden snatch'd the dear lamented maid! Who first to all my tender woes gave birth, Woes! that estranged my sorrowing soul to mirth, While full four lustres time completely made. Sweet plant! that nursed on Avignon's sweet soil, There bloom'd, there died; when soon the weeping Muse Threw by the lute, forsook her wonted toil. Bright spark of beauty, that still fires my breast! What pitying mortal shall a prayer refuse, That Heaven may number thee amid the blest?

ANON. 1777.

Here rest the chaste, the dear, the blest remains Of her most lovely; peerless while on earth: What late was beauty, spotless honour, worth, Stern marble, here thy chill embrace retains. The freshness of the laurel Death disdains; And hath its root thus wither'd.—Such the dearth O'ertakes me. Here I bury ease and mirth, And hope from twenty years of cares and pains. This happy plant Avignon lonely fed With Life, and saw it die.—And with it lies My pen, my verse, my reason;—useless, dead. O graceful form!—Fire, which consuming flies Through all my frame!—For blessings on thy head Oh, may continual prayers to heaven rise!

CAPEL LOFFT.

Here now repose those chaste, those blest remains Of that most gentle spirit, sole in earth! Harsh monumental stone, that here confinest True honour, fame, and beauty, all o'erthrown! Death has destroy'd that Laurel green, and torn Its tender roots; and all the noble meed Of my long warfare, passing (if aright My melancholy reckoning holds) four lustres. O happy plant! Avignon's favour'd soil Has seen thee spring and die;—and here with thee Thy poet's pen, and muse, and genius lies. O lovely, beauteous limbs! O vivid fire, That even in death hast power to melt the soul! Heaven be thy portion, peace with God on high!

WOODHOUSELEE.



INDEX.

SONNETS, CANZONI, &c.

PAGE

Ahi bella liberta, come tu m' hai 93

Al cader d' una pianta che si svelse 273

Alla dolce ombra de le belle frondi 140

Alma felice, che sovente torni 246

Almo Sol, quella fronde ch' io sola amo 171

Amor che meco al buon tempo ti stavi 262

Amor che 'ncende 'l cor d' ardente zelo 167

Amor che nel pensier mio vive e regna 138

Amor, che vedi ogni pensiero aperto 155

Amor con la man destra il lato manco 203

Amor con sue promesse lusingando 79

Amor ed io si pien di maraviglia 153

Amor, Fortuna, e la mia mente schiva 113

Amor fra l' erbe una leggiadra rete 166

Amor, io fallo e veggio il mio fallire 207

Amor m' ha posto come segno a strale 131

Amor mi manda quel dolce pensero 159

Amor mi sprona in un tempo ed affrena 165

Amor, Natura, e la bell' alma umile 168

Amor piangeva, ed io con lui talvolta 25

Amor, quando fioria 279

Amor, se vuoi ch' i' torni al giogo antico 236

Anima bella, da quel nodo sciolta 263

Anima, che diverse cose tante 182

Anzi tre di creata era alma in parte 193

A pie de' colli ove la bella vesta 7

Apollo, s' ancor vive il bel desio 37

A qualunque animale alberga in terra 18

Arbor vittoriosa e trionfale 226

Aspro core e selvaggio, e cruda voglia 230

Aura, che quelle chiome bionde e crespe 202

Avventuroso piu d' altro terreno 102

Beato in sogno, e di languir contento 192

Benedetto sia 'l giorno e 'l mese e l' anno 61

Ben mi credea passar mio tempo omai 186

Ben sapev' io che natural consiglio 66

Cantai, or piango; e non men di dolcezza 203

Cara la vita, e dopo lei mi pare 225

Cereato ho sempre selitaria vita 223

Cesare, poi che 'l traditor d' Egitto 97

Che debb' io far? che mi consigli, Amore 233

Che fai, alma? che pensi? avrem mai pace 146

Che fai? che pensi? che pur dietro guardi 240

Chiare, fresche e dolci acque 116

Chi e fermato di menar sua vita 82

Chi vuol veder quantunque puo Natura 216

Come 'l candido pie per l' erba fresca 157

Come talora al caldo tempo suole 139

Come va 'l mondo! or mi diletta e piace 251

Conobbi, quanto il ciel gli occhi m' aperse 296

Cosi potess' io ben chiuder in versi 92

Da' piu begli occhi e dal piu chiaro viso 302

Datemi pace, o duri mici pensieri 240

Deh porgi mano all' affannato ingeguo 317

Deh qual pieta, qual angel fu si presto 297

Del cibo onde 'l signor mio sempre abbonda 298

Dell' empia Babilonia, ond' e fuggita 105

Del mar Tirreno alla sinistra riva 65

Dicemi spesso il mio fidato speglio 312

Dicesett' anni ha gia rivolto il cielo 112

Di di in di vo cangiando il viso e 'l pelo 176

Di pensier in pensier, di monte in monte 127

Discolorato hai, Morte, il piu bel volto 246

Di tempo in tempo mi si fa men dura 145

Dodici donne onestamente lasse 201

Dolce mio, caro e prezioso pegno 297

Dolci durezze e placide repulse 315

Dolci ire, dolci sdegni e dolci paci 182

Donna che lieta col Principio nostro 302

Due gran nemiche insieme erano aggiunte 257

Due rose fresehe, e colte in paradiso 215

D' un bel, chiaro, polito e vivo ghiaccio 181

E' mi par d' or in ora udire il messo 303

E questo 'l nido in che la mia Fenice 275

Era 'l giorno ch' al sol si scoloraro 3

Erano i capei d' oro all' aura sparsi 88

Far potess' io vendetta di colei 222

Fera stella (se 'l cielo ha forza in noi) 162

Fiamma dal ciel su le tue treccie piova 135

Fontana di dolore, albergo d' ira 137

Fresco, ombroso, fiorito e verde colle 213

Fu forse un tempo dolce cosa amore 299

Fuggendo la prigione ov' Amor m' ebbe 88

Gentil mia donna, i' veggio 74

Geri, quando talor meco s' adira 165

Gia desiai con si giusta querela 195

Gia fiammeggiava l' amorosa stella 36

Giovane donna sott'un verde lauro 34

Giunto Alessandro alla famosa tomba 170

Giunto m' ha Amor fra belle e crude braccia 161

Gli angeli eletti e l' anime beate 301

Gli occhi di ch' io parlai si caldamente 253

Gloriosa Colonna, in cui s' appoggia 9

Grazie ch' a pochi 'l ciel largo destina 192

I begli occhi, ond' i' fui percosso in guisa 78

I di miei piu leggier che nessun cervo 274

I dolci colli ov' io lasciai me stesso 190

I' ho pien di sospir quest' aer tutto 250

I' ho pregato Amor, e nel riprego 212

Il cantar novo e 'l pianger degli augelli 197

Il figliuol di Latona avea gia nove 45

Il mal mi preme, e mi spaventa il peggio 214

Il mio avversario, in cui veder solete 46

Il successor di Carlo, che la chioma 26

I' mi soglio accusare, ed or mi scuso 257

I' mi vivea di mia sorte contento 204

In dubbio di mio stato, or piango, or canto 219

In mezzo di duo amanti onesta altera 106

In nobil sangue vita umile e queta 194

In qual parte del cielo, in quale idea 153

In quel bel viso, ch' i' sospiro e bramo 222

In quella parte dov' Amor mi sprona 121

In tale stella duo begli occhi vidi 224

Io amai sempre, ed amo forte ancora 86

Io avro sempre in odio la fenestra 86

Io canterei d' Amor si novamente 130

Io mi rivolgo indietro a ciascun passo 12

Io non fu' d' amar voi lassato unquanco 84

Io pensava assai destro esser sull' ale 265

Io sentia dentr' al cor gia venir meno 48

Io son dell' aspettar omai si vinto 93

Io son gia stanco di pensar siccome 78

Io son si stanco sotto 'l fascio antico 83

Io temo si de' begli occhi l' assalto 43

I' piansi, or canto; che 'l celeste lume 204

I' pur ascolto, e non odo novella 221

Italia mia, benche 'l parlar sia indarno 124

Ite, caldi sospiri, al freddo core 148

Ite, rime dolenti, al duro sasso 290

I' vidi in terra angelici costumi 150

I' vo pensando, e nel pensier m' assale 226

I' vo piangendo i miei passati tempi 314

La bella donna che cotanto amavi 89

La donna che 'l mio cor nel viso porta 104

L' aere gravato, e l' importuna nebbia 64

La gola, e 'l sonno, e l' oziose piume 6

La guancia che fu gia piangendo stanca 59

L' alma mia fiamma oltra le belle bella 250

L' alto e novo miracol ch' a di nostri 266

L' alto signor, dinanzi a cui non vale 212

L' arbor gentil ohe forte amai molt' anni 61

L' ardente nodo ov' io fui, d' ora in ora 239

Lasciato hai, Morte, senza sole il mondo 295

La sera desiar, odiar l' aurora 221

L' aspettata virtu che 'n voi fioriva 98

L' aspetto sacro della terra vostra 66

Lassare il velo o per sole, o per ombra 9

Lasso! Amor mi trasporta ov' io non voglio 206

Lasso! ben so, che dolorose prede 96

Lasso, che mal accorto fui da prima 64

Lasso, ch' i' ardo, ed altri non mel crede 181

Lasso me, ch' i' non so in qual parte pieghi 67

Lasso! quante fiate Amor m' assale 103

L' aura celeste che 'n quel verde Lauro 178

L' aura, che 'l verde Lauro e l' aureo crine 215

L' aura e l' odore e 'l refrigerio e l' ombra 284

L' aura gentil che rasserena i poggi 175

L' aura mia sacra al mio stanco riposo 304

L' aura serena che fra verdi fronde 177

L' aura soave ch' al sol spiega e vibra 178

L' avara Babilonia ha colmo 'l sacco 136

La ver l' aurora, che si dolce l' aura 210

La vita fugge, e non s' arresta un' ora 239

Le stelle e 'l cielo e gli elementi a prova 149

Levommi il mio pensier in parte ov' era 261

Liete e pensose, accompagnate e sole 199

Lieti fiori e felici, e ben nate erbe 154

L' oro e le perle, e i fior vermigli, e i bianchi 47

L' ultimo, lasso! de' miei giorni allegri 284

Mai non fu' in parte ove si chiar' vedessi 244

Mai non vedranno le mie luci asciutte 276

Mai non vo' pin cantar, com' io soleva 99

Ma poi che 'l dolce riso umile e piano 45

Mente mia che presaga de' tuoi danni 270

Mentre che 'l cor dagli amorosi vermi 263

Mia benigna fortuna e 'l viver licto 288

Mia ventura ed Amor m' avean si adorno 180

Mie venture al venir son tarde e pigre 58

Mille fiate, o dolce mia guerrera 17

Mille piagge in un giorno e mille rivi 164

Mirando 'l sol de' begli occhi sereno 162

Mira quel colle, o stanco mio cor vago 213

Morte ha spento quel Sol eh' abbagliar suolmi 313

Movesi 'l vecohierel canuto e bianco 13

Ne cosi bello il sol giammai levarsi 141

Nel dolce tempo della prima etade 20

Nella stagion che 'l ciel rapido inchina 50

Nell' eta sua piu bella e piu fiorita 243

Ne mai pietosa madre al caro figlio 248

Ne per sereno cielo ir vaghe stelle 269

Non al suo amante piu Diana piacque 54

Non dall' Ispano Ibero all' Indo Idaspe 190

Non d' atra e tempestosa onda marina 147

Non fur mai Giove e Cesare si mossi 150

Non ha tanti animali il mar fra l' onde 207

Non puo far morte il dolce viso amaro 305

Non pur quell' una bella ignuda mano 180

Non Tesin, Po, Varo, Arno, Adige e Tebro 145

Non veggio ove scampar mi possa omai 102

Nova angeletta sovra l' ale accorta 101

O aspettata in ciel, beata e bella 26

O bella man, che mi distringi 'l core 179

O cameretta che gia fosti un porto 206

Occhi miei lassi, mentre ch' io vi giro 12

Occhi miei, oscurato e 'l nostro sole 241

Occhi, piangete; accompagnate il core 85

O d' ardente virtute ornata e calda 143

O dolci sguardi, o parolette accorte 220

O giorno, o ora, o ultimo momento 285

Ogni giorno mi par piu di mill' anni 304

Oime il bel viso! oime il soave sguardo 232

O invidia, nemica di virtute 161

O misera ed orribil visione 219

Onde tolse Amor l' oro e di qual vena 198

O passi sparsi, o pensier vaghi e pronti 154

Or che 'l ciel e la terra e 'l vento tace 156

Or hai fatto 'l estremo di tua possa 283

Orso, al vostro destrier si puo ben porre 94

Orso, e' non furon mai fiumi ne stagni 43

Or vedi, Amor, che giovinetta donna 111

O tempo, o ciel volubil che fuggendo 294

Ove ch' i' posi gli occhi lassi o giri 152

Ov' e la fronte che con picciol cenno 259

Pace non trovo, e non ho da far guerra 132

Padre del ciel, dopo i perduti giorni 62

Parra forse ad alcun, che 'n lodar quella 216

Pasco la mente d' un si nobil cibo 175

Passa la nave mia colma d' oblio 172

Passato e 'l tempo omai, lasso! che tanto 270

Passer mai solitario in alcun tetto 201

Perche al viso d' Amor portava insegna 57

Perche la vita e breve 68

Perche quel che mi trasse ad amar prima 60

Perch' io t' abbia guardato di menzogna 49

Per far una leggiadra sua vendetta 2

Per mezzo i boschi inospiti e selvaggi 163

Per mirar Policleto a prova fiso 80

Perseguendomi Amor al luogo usato 103

Piangete, donne, e con voi pianga Amore 90

Pien di quella ineffabile dolcezza 107

Pien d' un vago pensier, che me desvia 159

Piovonmi amare lagrime dal viso 14

Piu di me lieta non si vede a terra 25

Piu volte Amor m' avea gia detto: scrivi 91

Piu volte gia dal bel sembiante umano 160

Po, ben puo' tu portartene la scorza 166

Poco era ad appressarsi agli occhi miei 53

Poiche la vista angelica serena 242

Poi che 'l cammin m' e chiuso di mercede 129

Poi che mia speme e lunga a venir troppo 87

Poiche per mio destino 76

Poi che voi ed io piu volte abbiam provato 94

Pommi ove 'l sol occide i fiori e l' erba 142

Qual donna attende a gloriosa fama 225

Qual mio destin, qual forza o qual inganno 198

Qual paura ho, quando mi torna a mente 217

Qual piu diversa e nova 133

Qual ventura mi fu, quando dall' uno 205

Quand' io mi volgo indietro a mirar gli anni 258

Quand' io movo i sospiri a chiamar voi 5

Quand' io son tutto volto in quella parte 15

Quand' io veggio dal ciel scender l' Aurora 252

Quand' io v' odo parlar si dolcemente 141

Quando Amor i begli occhi a terra inchina 158

Quando dal proprio sito si rimove 44

Quando fra l' altre donne ad ora ad ora 11

Quando giugne per gli occhi al cor profondo 92

Quando giunse a Simon l' alto concetto 81

Quando il soave mio fido conforto 305

Quando 'l pianeta che distingue l' ore 8

Quando 'l sol bagna in mar l' aurato carro 199

Quando 'l voler, che con duo sproni ardenti 144

Quando mi vene innanzi il tempo e 'l loco 163

Quanta invidia ti porto, avara terra 259

Quante fiate al mio dolce ricetto 245

Quanto piu disiose l' ali spando 138

Quanto piu m' avvicino al giorno estremo 35

Quel, che d' odore e di color vincea 295

Quel ch' infinita providenza ed arte 4

Quel che 'n Tessaglia ebbe le man si pronte 46

Quel foco, ch' io pensai che fosse spento 57

Quella fenestra, ove l' un sol si vede 95

Quell' antiquo mio dolce empio signore 307

Quella per cui con Sorga ho cangiat' Arno 265

Quelle pietose rime, in ch' io m' accorsi 111

Quel rosignuol che si soave piagne 268

Quel sempre acerbo ed onorato giorno 151

Quel sol che mi mostrava il cammin destro 264

Quel vago, dolce, caro, onesto sguardo 286

Quel vago impallidir che 'l dolce riso 113

Questa Fenice dell' aurata piuma 169

Quest' anima gentil che si diparte 35

Questa umil fera, un cor di tigre o d' orsa 148

Questro nostro caduco e fragil bene 293

Qui dove mezzo son, Sennuccio mio 105

Rapido fiume che d' alpestra vena 189

Real natura, angelico intelletto 211

Rimansi addietro il sestodecim' anno 108

Ripensando a quel ch' oggi il ciel onora 298

Rotta e l' alta Colonna e 'l verde Lauro 235

S' Amore o Morte non da qualche stroppio 44

S' Amor non e, che dunque e quel ch' i' sento 130

S' Amor novo consiglio non n' apporta 242

Se al principio risponde il fine e 'l mezzo 81

Se bianche non son prima ambe le tempie 85

Se col cieco desir che 'l cor distrugge 57

Se lamentar angelli, o verdi fronde 243

Se la mia vita dall' aspro tormento 10

Se 'l dolce sguardo di costei m' ancide 168

Se 'l onorata fronde, che prescrive 24

Se 'l pensier che mi strugge 114

Se 'l sasso ond' e piu chiusa questa valle 107

Se mai foco per foco non si spense 49

Sennuccio, i' vo' che sappi in qual maniera 104

Sennuccio mio, benche doglioso e solo 249

Sento l' aura mia antica, e i dolci colli 274

Se quell' aura soave de' sospiri 249

Se Virgilio ed Omero avessin visto 170

Se voi poteste per turbati segni 63

Si breve e 'l tempo e 'l pensier si veloce 247

Siccome eterna vita e veder Dio 173

Si e debile il filo a cui s' attene 40

Signor mio caro, ogni pensier mi tira 231

S' il dissi mai, ch' i' venga in odio a quella 183

S' io avessi pensato che si care 254

S' io credessi per morte essere scarce 39

S' io fossi stato fermo alia spelunca 157

Si tosto come avvien che l' arco scocchi 87

Si traviato e 'l folle mio desio 5

Solea dalla fontana di mia vita 287

Solea lontana in sonno consolarme 218

Soleano i miei pensier soavemente 250

Soleasi nel mio cor star bella e viva 255

Solo e pensoso i piu deserti campi 38

Son animali al mondo di si altera 16

S' onesto amor puo meritar mercede 291

Spinse amor e dolor ore ir non debbe 300

Spirto felice, che si dolcemente 316

Spirto gentil che quelle membra reggi 54

Standomi un giorno solo alia finestra 277

Stiamo, Amor, a veder la gloria nostra 174

S' una fede amorosa, un cor non finto 200

Tacer non posso, e temo non adopre 280

Tempo era omai da trovar pace o tregua 272

Tennemi Amor anni ventuno ardendo 314

Tornami a mente, anzi v' e dentro quella 293

Tranquillo porto avea mostrato Amore 273

Tra quantunque leggiadre donne e belle 196

Tutta la mia fiorita e verde etade 271

Tutto 'l di piango; e poi la notte, quando 195

Una candida cerva sopra l' erba 172

Una donna piu bella assai che 'l sole 108

Vago augelletto che cantando vai 317

Valle che de' lamenti miei se' piena 260

Verdi panni, sanguigni, oscuri o persi 32

Vergine bella che di sol vestita 318

Vergognando talor ch' ancor si taccia 16

Vidi fra mille donne una gia tale 292

Vincitore Alessandro l' ira vinse 205

Vinse Annibal, e non seppe usar poi 98

Vive faville uscian de' duo bei lumi 223

Voglia mi sprona; Amor mi guida e scorge 191

Voi, ch' ascoltate in rime sparse il suono 1

Volgendo gli occhi al mio novo colore 63

Volo con l' ali de' pensieri al cielo 313

Zefiro torna, e 'l bel tempo rimena 266

TRIUMPHS.

Triumph of Chastity 361

—— Death 371

—— Eternity 400

—— Fame 381

—— Love 322

—— Time 394

SONNET FOUND IN LAURA'S TOMB 406

* * * * *

LONDON: PRINTED BY WM. CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED

STAMFORD STREET AND CHARING CROSS.

THE END