MARY! when we to Arqua's village came, Saw the rear'd tomb, the fountain's hallow'd rill, And climb'd the summit of that verdant hill Where Petrarch's dwelling bears the poet's name; When I beheld the crowded page proclaim, In varied tongue, unchanging homage still, The deathless praise that shall all ages fill, I sigh'd myself to share the poet's fame. Yet, ah! when I remember'd how in vain His lyre he strung to soften Laura's pride, Doom'd to a life of unrequited pain; Ah! Mary, then thy yielding hand I prest, Turn'd from that book to gaze upon my Bride, Nor car'd for Fame who was in Love so blest. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AN ORCHARD AT AVIGNON by AGNES MARY F. ROBINSON PIONEER WOMAN by EVA K. ANGLESBURG PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 27. AS-SAMI'H by EDWIN ARNOLD NATALIA'S RESURRECTION: 20 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT BUSINESS IS BUSINESS by BERTON BRALEY THE DEAR ADVENTURER by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON |