Explore "Far Potess' Io Vendetta DI Colei" by Francesco Petrarca on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
HIS SOUL VISITS HER IN SLEEP.
Oh! that from her some vengeance I could wrest / With words and glances who my peace destroys, / And then abash'd, for my worse sorrow, flies, / Veiling her eyes so cruel, yet so blest; / Thus mine afflicted spirits and oppress'd / By sure degrees she sorely drains and dries, / And in my heart, as savage lion, cries / Even at night, when most I should have rest.
My soul, which sleep expels from his abode, / The body leaves, and, from its trammels free, / Seeks her whose mien so often menace show'd.
I marvel much, if heard its advent be, / That while to her it spake, and o'er her wept, / And round her clung, asleep she alway kept.
MACGREGOR.