Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, SONNET TO VALCLUSA, by THOMAS RUSSELL (1762-1788)


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SONNET TO VALCLUSA, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: What though valclusa, the fond bard be fled
Last Line: Still petrarch's genius weeps o'er laura's tomb.
Subject(s): Petrarch (1304-1374); Francesco Petrarca


What though, Valclusa, the fond Bard be fled,
That wooed his Fair in thy sequestered bowers,
Long loved her living, long bemoaned her dead,
And hung her visionary shrine with flowers!
What though no more he teach thy shades to mourn
The hapless chances that to Love belong,
As erst, when drooping o'er her turf forlorn
He charmed wild Echo with his plaintive song!
Yet still, enamored of the tender tale,
Pale Passion haunts thy grove's romantic gloom,
Yet still soft music breathes in every gale,
Still undecayed the fairy-garlands bloom,
Still heavenly incense fills each fragrant vale,
Still Petrarch's Genius weeps o'er Laura's tomb.





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