“Love, which is quickly kindled in the gentle heart, seized this man for the fair form that was taken from me, the manner still hurts me. Love which absolves no beloved one from loving, seized me so strongly with his charm that, as thou seest, it does not leave me yet”

“Love, that exempts no one beloved from loving,Seized me with pleasure of this man so strongly,That, as thou seest, it doth not yet desert me.”

“Love, which absolves no one beloved from loving,seized me so strongly with his charm that,as you see, it has not left me yet.Love brought us to one death.”

“Amor, ch'al cor gentile ratto s'apprendeprese costui de la bella personache mi fu tolta; e 'l modo ancor m'offende.Amor, che a nullo amato amar perdona,Mi prese del costui piacer sì forte,Che, come vedi, ancor non m'abbandona...""Love, which quickly arrests the gentle heart,Seized him with my beautiful formThat was taken from me, in a manner which still grieves me.Love, which pardons no beloved from loving,took me so strongly with delight in himThat, as you see, it still abandons me not...”

“I marked all kindred Powers the heart finds fair:--Truth, with awed lips; and Hope, with eyes upcast;And Fame, whose loud wings fan the ashen PastTo signal-fires, Oblivion's flight to scare;And Youth, with still some single golden hairUnto his shoulder clinging, since the lastEmbrace wherein two sweet arms held him fast;And Life, still wreathing flowers for Death to wear.Love's throne was not with these; but far aboveAll passionate wind of welcome and farewell”

“Sudden LightI have been here before, But when or how I cannot tell: I know the grass beyond the door, The sweet keen smell, The sighing sound, the lights around the shore. You have been mine before,— How long ago I may not know: But just when at that swallow's soar Your neck turn'd so, Some veil did fall,—I knew it all of yore. Has this been thus before? And shall not thus time's eddying flight Still with our lives our love restore In death's despite, And day and night yield one delight once more?”

“A Sonnet is amoment'smonument,—Memorial from theSoul's eternityTo one deaddeathless hour.”