Petrarch - Sonnet CXXXVI lyrics

HIS TONGUE IS TIED BY EXCESS OF PASSION Such vain thought as wonted to mislead me In desert hope, by well-a**urèd moan, Makes me from company to live alone, In following her whom reason bids me flee. She fleeth as fast by gentle cruelty; And after her my heart would fain be gone, But armèd sighs my way do stop anon, 'Twixt hope and dread locking my liberty; Yet as I guess, under disdainful brow One beam of ruth is in her cloudy look: Which comforteth the mind, that erst for fear shook: And therewithal bolded I seek the way how To utter the smart I suffer within; But such it is, I not how to begin. Wyatt. Full of a tender thought, which severs me From all my kind, a lonely musing thing, From my breast's solitude I sometimes spring, Still seeking her whom most I ought to flee; And see her pa** though soft, so adverse she, That my soul spreads for flight a trembling wing: Of armèd sighs such legions does she bring, The fair antagonist of Love and me. Yet from beneath that dark disdainful brow, Or much I err, one beam of pity flows, Soothing with partial warmth my heart's distress: Again my bosom feels its wonted glow! But when my simple hope I would disclose, My o'er-fraught faltering tongue the crowded thoughts oppress. Wrangham.