Petrarch - Sonnet CXXXVIII lyrics

HE CANNOT END HER CRUELTY, NOR SHE HIS HOPE Me Love has left in fair cold arms to lie, Which k** me wrongfully: if I complain, My martyrdom is doubled, worse my pain: Better in silence love, and loving die! For she the frozen Rhine with burning eye Can melt at will, the hard rock break in twain, So equal to her beauty her disdain That others' pleasure wakes her angry sigh. A breathing moving marble all the rest, Of very adamant is made her heart, So hard, to move it baffles all my art. Despite her lowering brow and haughty breast, One thing she cannot, my fond heart deter From tender hopes and pa**ionate sighs for her. Macgregor.