Petrarch - Sonnet LXXIX lyrics

RECOLLECTIONS OF LOVE That window where my sun is often seen Refulgent, and the world's at morning's hours; And that, where Boreas blows, when winter lowers, And the short days reveal a clouded scene; That bench of stone where, with a pensive mien, My Laura sits, forgetting beauty's powers; Haunts where her shadow strikes the walls or flowers, And her feet press the paths or herbage green: The place where Love a**ail'd me with success; And spring, the fatal time that, first observed, Revives the keen remembrance every year; With looks and words, that o'er me have preserved A power no length of time can render less, Call to my eyes the sadly-soothing tear. Penn. That window where my sun is ever seen, Dazzling and bright, and Nature's at the none; And that where still, when Boreas rude has blown In the short days, the air thrills cold and keen: The stone where, at high noon, her seat has been, Pensive and parleying with herself alone: Haunts where her bright form has its shadow thrown, Or trod her fairy foot the carpet green: The cruel spot where first Love spoil'd my rest, And the new season which, from year to year, Opes, on this day, the old wound in my breast: The seraph face, the sweet words, chaste and dear, Which in my suffering heart are deep impress'd, All melt my fond eyes to the frequent tear. Macgregor.