Page:Sonnets and Ballate of Guido Cavalcanti.djvu/141

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Ballate

BALLATA XII

If all my life be but some deathly moving,
Joy dragged from heaviness;
Seeing my deep distress
How doth Love’s spirit call me unto loving?

How summon up my heart for dalliance?
When ’tis so sorrowful
And manacled by sighs so mournfully
That e’en the will for grace dare not advance?
Weariness over all
Spoileth that heart of power, despoiling me.
And song, sweet laughter, and benignity
Are grown three grievous sighs,
Till all men’s careless eyes
May see Death risen to my countenance.

Love that is born of loving like delight
Within my heart sojourneth
And fashions a new person from desire
Yet toppleth down to vileness all his might,
So all Love’s daring spurneth
That man who knoweth service and its hire.
For Love, then why doth he of me inquire?
Only because he sees

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