Explore "Orso, Al Vostro Destrier Si Puo Ben Porre" by Francesco Petrarca on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
HE SYMPATHISES WITH HIS FRIEND ORSO AT HIS INABILITY TO ATTEND A / TOURNAMENT.
Orso, a curb upon thy gallant horse / Well may we place to turn him from his course, / But who thy heart may bind against its will / Which honour courts and shuns dishonour still? / Sigh not! for nought its praise away can take, / Though Fate this journey hinder you to make.
For, as already voiced by general fame, / Now is it there, and none before it came.
Amid the camp, upon the day design'd, / Enough itself beneath those arms to find / Which youth, love, valour, and near blood concern, / Crying aloud: With noble fire I burn, / As my good lord unwillingly at home, / Who pines and languishes in vain to come.
MACGREGOR.