WOLLASTON.

CANZONE IV.

Si e debile il filo a cui s’ attene.

HE GRIEVES IN ABSENCE FROM LAURA.

      The thread on which my weary life depends
    So fragile is and weak,
    If none kind succour lends,
    Soon ’neath the painful burden will it break;
    Since doom’d to take my sad farewell of her,
    In whom begins and ends
    My bliss, one hope, to stir
    My sinking spirit from its black despair,
    Whispers, “Though lost awhile
    That form so dear and fair,
    Sad soul! the trial bear,
    For thee e’en yet the sun may brightly shine,
    And days more happy smile,
    Once more the lost loved treasure may be thine.” 
    This thought awhile sustains me, but again
    To fail me and forsake in worse excess of pain.

    Time flies apace:  the silent hours and swift
    So urge his journey on,
    Short span to me is left
    Even to think how quick to death I run;
    Scarce, in the orient heaven, yon mountain crest
    Smiles in the sun’s first ray,
    When, in the adverse west,
    His long round run, we see his light decay
    So small of life the space,
    So frail and clogg’d with woe,
    To mortal man below,
    That, when I find me from that beauteous face
    Thus torn by fate’s decree,
    Unable at a wish with her to be,
    So poor the profit that old comforts give,
    I know not how I brook in such a state to live.

    Each place offends, save where alone I see
    Those eyes so sweet and bright,
    Which still shall bear the key
    Of the soft thoughts I hide from other sight;
    And, though hard exile harder weighs on me,
    Whatever mood betide,
    I ask no theme beside,
    For all is hateful that I since have seen. 
    What rivers and what heights,
    What shores and seas between
    Me rise and those twin lights,
    Which made the storm and blackness of my days
    One beautiful serene,
    To which tormented Memory still strays: 
    Free as my life then pass’d from every care,
    So hard and heavy seems my present lot to bear.

    Alas! self-parleying thus, I but renew
    The warm wish in my mind,
    Which first within it grew
    The day I left my better half behind: 
    If by long absence love is quench’d, then who
    Guides me to the old bait,
    Whence all my sorrows date? 
    Why rather not my lips in silence seal’d? 
    By finest crystal ne’er
    Were hidden tints reveal’d
    So faithfully and fair,
    As my sad spirit naked lays and bare
    Its every secret part,
    And the wild sweetness thrilling in my heart,
    Through eyes which, restlessly, o’erfraught with tears,
    Seek her whose sight alone with instant gladness cheers.