Verse > Anthologies > Samuel Waddington, ed. > The Sonnets of Europe
Samuel Waddington, comp.  The Sonnets of Europe.  1888.
Dreams Bore My Fancy
By Francesco Petrarca (1304–1374)
Translated by Thomas Wentworth Higginson
Levommi il mio pensiero

  DREAMS bore my fancy to that region where
She dwells whom here I seek, but cannot see.
’Mid those who in the loftiest heaven be
I looked on her, less haughty and more fair.
  She touched my hand, she said, “Within this sphere,        5
If hope deceive not, thou shalt dwell with me:
I filled thy life with war’s wild agony;
Mine own day closed ere evening could appear.
  My bliss no human brain can understand;
I wait for thee alone, and that fair veil        10
Of beauty thou dost love shall wear again.”
  Why was she silent then, why dropped my hand
Ere those delicious tones could quite avail
To bid my mortal soul in heaven remain?

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