Page:Sonnets and Ballate of Guido Cavalcanti.djvu/115

 HE harshness of my strange and new misventure Hath in my mind distraught The wonted fragrance of love’s every thought.

Already is my Life in such part shaken That she, my gracious lady of delight, Hath left my soul most desolate forsaken And e’en the place she was, is gone from sight; And there rests not within me so much might That my mind can reach forth To comprehend the flower of her worth.

This noble thought is come well winged with death, Namely, that I shall ne’er see her again, And this harsh torment, with no pity fraught, Increaseth bitterness and in its strain I cry, and find none to attend my pain, While for the flame I feel, I thank that lord who turns grief’s fortune wheel.

Full of all anguish and within Fear’s gates The spirit of my heart lies sorrowfully, Thanks to that Fortune who my fortune hates, Who ’th spun death’s lot where it most irketh me