FATHER PROUT.

SONNET CLVIII.

Siccome eterna vita e veder Dio.

ALL HIS HAPPINESS IS IN GAZING UPON HER.

      As life eternal is with God to be,
    No void left craving, there of all possess’d,
    So, lady mine, to be with you makes blest,
    This brief frail span of mortal life to me. 
    So fair as now ne’er yet was mine to see—­
    If truth from eyes to heart be well express’d—­
    Lovely and blessed spirit of my breast,
    Which levels all high hopes and wishes free. 
    Nor would I more demand if less of haste
    She show’d to part; for if, as legends tell
    And credence find, are some who live by smell,
    On water some, or fire who touch and taste,
    All, things which neither strength nor sweetness give,
    Why should not I upon your dear sight live?

    MACGREGOR.

SONNET CLIX.

Stiamo, Amor, a veder la gloria nostra.

TO LOVE, ON LAURA WALKING ABROAD.

      Here stand we, Love, our glory to behold—­
    How, passing Nature, lovely, high, and rare! 
    Behold! what showers of sweetness falling there! 
    What floods of light by heaven to earth unroll’d! 
    How shine her robes, in purple, pearls, and gold,
    So richly wrought, with skill beyond compare! 
    How glance her feet!—­her beaming eyes how fair
    Through the dark cloister which these hills enfold! 
    The verdant turf, and flowers of thousand hues
    Beneath yon oak’s old canopy of state,
    Spring round her feet to pay their amorous duty. 
    The heavens, in joyful reverence, cannot choose
    But light up all their fires, to celebrate
    Her praise, whose presence charms their awful beauty.

    MERIVALE.

      Here tarry, Love, our glory to behold;
    Nought in creation so sublime we trace;
    Ah! see what sweetness showers upon that face,
    Heaven’s brightness to this earth those eyes unfold! 
    See, with what magic art, pearls, purple, gold,
    That form transcendant, unexampled, grace: 
    Beneath the shadowing hills observe her pace,
    Her glance replete with elegance untold! 
    The verdant turf, and flowers of every hue,
    Clustering beneath yon aged holm-oak’s gloom,
    For the sweet pressure of her fair feet sue;
    The orbs of fire that stud yon beauteous sky,
    Cheer’d by her presence and her smiles, assume
    Superior lustre and serenity.

    NOTT.

SONNET CLX.

Pasco la mente d’ un si nobil cibo.

TO SEE AND HEAR HER IS HIS GREATEST BLISS.