Si Traviato E 'L Folle Mio Desio

OF HIS FOOLISH PASSION FOR LAURA.

So wayward now my will, and so unwise, / To follow her who turns from me in flight, / And, from love's fetters free herself and light, / Before my slow and shackled motion flies, / That less it lists, the more my sighs and cries / Would point where passes the safe path and right, / Nor aught avails to check or to excite, / For Love's own nature curb and spur defies.