THROUGH thee, not of thee, Lady fair I write; | |
| Through power of Beauty, not of Virtues, thine: | |
| With zealous will, though slender be my might, | |
| I, weakling, seek an eagle’s nest to climb. | |
| Then guide my feet! and if to slip I chance, | 5 |
| Uphold me by the favour of thy glance! | |
| |
| Accept in gree these verses rudely penned; | |
| A sign of duty which to thee I owe: | |
| And deign with sweet regard them to defend; | |
| Which as condemnèd else are like to go. | 10 |
| In thee, it rests the stamp on them to set: | |
| If current, Pass! Suppressed! if counterfeit. | |
| |
| And though the note, thy praises only fit, | |
| Of sweetest bird, the dulcet nightingale: | |
Disdain not little Robin RedbreasT yet!
[R and T stand here, and elsewhere, for the initials of the Author.] | 15 |
[A line wanting.] | |
| What he doth want in learning or in skill; | |
| He doth supply with zeal of his good will. | |
| |
| For only Thee, they were devised alone: | |
| And unto Thee, they dedicated are. | 20 |
| Who knows? Perhaps this kindness, by thee shown, | |
| Shall make this glimpse shine like a glittering star. | |
| Such is thy virtue in the World his sight; | |
| Thy crow though black, may go for swan most white. | |
| |
| Then doubt me not, though parted we remain: | 25 |
| In England thou; and I in Italy. | |
| As I did part, I will return again, | |
| Loyal to thee; or else with shame I’ll die! | |
| True Lovers, when they travel countries strange, | |
The air, and not their constant minds, do change.
Cœlum, non animum, mutant, qui trans mare currunt.
Affettionatissimo servid, della
divina Bellezza sua.
R. T. | 30 |
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