Poems, Consisting Chiefly of Translations from the Asiatick Languages/An Ode of Petrach
AN
ODE OF PETRARCH,
TO THE
FOUNTAIN OF VALCHIUSA.
YE clear and sparkling streams,
Warm'd by the sunny beams,
Through whose transparent crystal Laura play'd;
Ye boughs, that deck the grove.
Where Spring her chaplets wove,
While Laura lay beneath the quivering shade;
Sweet herbs, and blushing flowers,
That crown yon vernal bowers
For ever fatal, yet for ever dear;
And ye, that heard my sighs
When first she charm'd my eyes,
Soft-breathing gales, my dying accents hear.
If heaven has fix'd my doom,
That Love must quite consume
My bursting heart, and close my eyes in death;
Ah! grant this flight request,
That hero my urn may rest
When to its mansion flies my vital breath.
This pleasing hope will smooth
My anxious wind, and sooth
The pangs of that inevitable hour;
My spirit will not grieve
Her mortal veil to leave
In these calm shades, and this enchanting bower.
Haply the guilty maid
Through yon accustom'd glade
To my sad tomb will take her lonely way;
Where first her breauty's light
O'erpower'd my dazzled sight,
When Love on this fair border bade me stray
There forrowing shall she see,
Beneath an aged tree,
Her true but hapless lover's lowly bier;
Too late her tender sighs
Shall melt the pitying skies,
And her soft veil shall hide the gushing tear.
O! well-remember'd day,
When on yon bank fhe lay,
Meek in her pride, and in her rigour mild;
The young and blooming flowers,
Falling in fragrant fhowers,
Shone on her heck, and on her bofom ftnil'd:
Soine on he-r mantle hung,
Some in her lopks were ftrung,
Like orient gerns in rings of flaming gold;
Some, in a Ipicy cloud
Descending, call'd aloud,
"Here Love and Youth the reins of empire hold."
I view'd the heavenly maid;
And, rapt in wonder, said
"The groves of Eden gave this angel birth;"
Her look, her voice, her smile,
That might all heaven beguile,
Wasted my soul above the realms of earth:
The star-bespangled skies
Were open'd to my eyes;
Sighing I said, "Whence rose this glittering scene?"
Since that auspicious hour,
This bank, and odorous bower,
My morning couch, and evening haunt, have been.
Well mayst thou blush, my song,
To leave the rural throng,
And fly thus artless to my Laura's ear;
But, were thy poet's fire
Ardent as his desire,
Thou wert a song that heaven might stoop to hear.
Canzone 27.
Chiare, fresche, e dolci acque,
Ove le belle membra
Pose colei, che sola a me par doana;
Gentil ramo, ove piacque
(Con fofpir mi rimembra)
A lei di fare al bel fianco colonna;
Erba e fior', che la gonna
Leggiadra ricoverse
Coll' angelico seno;
Aer sacro sereno
Ov' Amor co' begli occhi il cor m' aperse;
Date udicnza insieme
Alle dolenti mie parole estreme.
S' egli e pur mio deftino,
E'l cielo in cio s' adopra,
Ch' amor quefti oechi lagrimando chiuda,
Qualche grazia il mefehino
Corpo fra voi ricopra;
E torni l' alma al proprio albergo ignuda:
La morte fia men cruda,
Se quefta fpeme porto
A quel dubbiofo paffo;
Che lo fpirito laffo
Non poria mai in piu ripofato porto
N'eri piu tranquilla foffa
Fuggir la carne travagliata e l' offa
Tempo verra ancor forfe
Ch' all' ufato foggiorno
Torni la fera bella e manfueta;
E la, ov' ella mi fcorfe
Nel benedetto giorno
Volga la vifta deliofa e lieta,
Cercandomi, ed, o pieta,
Gia terra infra la pietre
Vedendo, Amor l' infpiri
In guifa che fofpiri
Si dolcemente che merce m' impetre,
E faccia forza al cielo
Afcuigandofi gli occhi col bel velo
Da' bei rami fcendea
Dolce nella rpeit)oria
Una pioggia di fior fovra '1 fuo grembo;
Ed ella fi fedea,
flumile in tanta gloria
Coverta gia dell' amorofo nerabo:
Qual fior cadea ful lembo,
Qual fulle treccie bionde,
Ch' oro fqrbito e perle
Eran. quel di a vederle,
Qual fi pofava in terra, e qual full' onde;
Qual con un vagp errore
CJinmdo parea dir, " Qui regna Amore."
Quante volte diffs'io
Allor pien di fpavento
"Coftei per fermo nacque in paradifo,"
Cofi carco d' oblio
Il divin portamento
E'l volto, e le parole, e'l dolce rifo
M' aveano, e fi divifo
Dall' imagine vera,
Ch' i' dicea fofpirando,
"Qui come venn' io, o quando?"
Credendo effer' in ciel, non la dov' era.
Da indi in qua mi piace
Quefta erba fi ch' altrove non o pace.
Se tu aveffi ornamenti quant' ai voglia,
Potrefti arditamente
Ufcir del bofco, e gir' infra la gente.
- ↑ M. de Voltaire has given us a beautiful paraphrase of this first stanza, though it is certain that he had never read the ode in the original or at most only thee three first lines of it; for he asserts that the Italian song is irregular, and without rhymes; whereas the stanzas are perfectly regular, and the rhymes very exact. His design was to give Madame de Chatelet, for whom he wrote his history, an idea of Petrach's style; but, if she had only read his imitation, she could have but an imperfect notion of the Italian which the reader will easily perceive by comparing them.