Explore "Lasso! Ben so Che Dolorose Prede" by Francesco Petrarca on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
THOUGH FOR FOURTEEN YEARS HE HAS STRUGGLED UNSUCCESSFULLY, HE STILL / HOPES TO CONQUER HIS PASSION.
Alas! well know I what sad havoc makes / Death of our kind, how Fate no mortal spares! / How soon the world whom once it loved forsakes, / How short the faith it to the friendless bears! / Much languishment, I see, small mercy wakes; / For the last day though now my heart prepares, / Love not a whit my cruel prison breaks, / And still my cheek grief's wonted tribute wears.