La Notte Che Segui L' Orribil Caso by Francesco Petrarca

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The night -- that follow'd the disastrous blow / Which my spent sun removed in heaven to glow, / And left me here a blind and desolate man -- / Now far advanced, to spread o'er earth began / The sweet spring dew which harbingers the dawn, / When slumber's veil and visions are withdrawn; / When, crown'd with oriental gems, and bright / As newborn day, upon my tranced sight / My Lady lighted from her starry sphere: / With kind speech and soft sigh, her hand so dear.

So long desired in vain, to mine she press'd, / While heavenly sweetness instant warm'd my breast: / "Remember her, who, from the world apart, / Kept all your course since known to that young heart. " / Pensive she spoke, with mild and modest air / Seating me by her, on a soft bank, where, / In greenest shade, the beech and laurel met. / "Remember? ah! how should I e'er forget? / Yet tell me, idol mine," in tears I said, / "Live you? -- or dreamt I -- is, is Laura dead? " / "Live I? I only live, but you indeed / Are dead, and must be, till the last best hour / Shall free you from the flesh and vile world's power.

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