Sonnet XI
* A paraphrase of Petrarca, ‘Quando fra l’altre donne …’
When among creatures fair of countenanceLove comes enformed in such proud character,So far as other beauty yields to her,So far the breast with fiercer longing pants;I bless the spot, and hour, and circumstance,That wed desire to a thing so high,And say, Glad soul, rejoice, for thou and IOf bliss unpaired are made participants;Hence have come ardent thoughts and waking dreamsThat, feeding Fancy from so sweet a cup,Leave it no lust for gross imaginings.Through her the woman’s perfect beauty gleamsThat while it gazes lifts the spirit upTo that high source from which all beauty springs.