Read "He Consoles himself with the Thought that he will be Envied by Posterity" by Francesco Petrarca online for free on Textopian. Full text with search, annotations, highlights, and AI-powered reading aids.
Sweet scorn, sweet anger, and sweet misery, / Forgiveness sweet, sweet burden, and sweet ill; / Sweet accents that mine ear so sweetly thrill, / That sweetly bland, now sweetly fierce can be.
Mourn not, my soul, but suffer silently; / And those embitter'd sweets thy cup that fill / With the sweet honour blend of loving still / Her whom I told: "Thou only pleasest me. " / Hereafter, moved with envy, some may say: / "For that high-boasted beauty of his day / Enough the bard has borne! " then heave a sigh.