Page:Sonnets and Ballate of Guido Cavalcanti.djvu/117

 And given hope that’s ta’en in treachery, Which ere it died aright Had robbed me of mine hours of delight.

words of mine foredone and full of terror, Whither it please ye, go forth and proclaim Grief. Throughout all your wayfare, in your error Make ye soft clamour of my Lady’s name, While I downcast and fallen upon shame Keep scant shields over me, To whomso runs, death’s colours cover me.