Ah! little cause has Petrarch to complain, Since thus he boasts his wound, thus vaunts the smart, While Laura struggles to conceal the pain Derived from silence and a bursting heart: For dear she holds the Poet and his lay: But this avowal meets no human ear, Nor shall the conscious eye of tell-tale day Behold her shed the unavailing tear. For this, with watchful and incessant care She tries each varied art, each strange disguise While cold indifference marks her studied air, Smiles on her cheek, and lords it o'er her sighs. The world shall sympathize with Petrarch's woe, While night and silence only Laura's know. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CACOETHES SCRIBENDI by OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES ODE [ON THE POETS] by JOHN KEATS TERNISSA, FR HELLENICS by WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR THE VIKING by CLARIBEL WEEKS AVERY A REMEMBRANCE OF SOME ENGLISH POETS by RICHARD BARNFIELD TO THE RIVER ARVE by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT PASSING THROUGH THE CARRON IRON WORKS by ROBERT BURNS ODE TO THE GERMANS by THOMAS CAMPBELL MOON MADNESS (IN THE PSEUDO-CHINESE STYLE OF THE MODERNISTIC SCHOOL) by ROBERT WOOD CLACK |