Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, ON HIS MISTRESS'S DEATH, by PETRARCH


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

ON HIS MISTRESS'S DEATH, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: Love the ripe harvest of my toils
Last Line: She lives in me, in her I died.
Alternate Author Name(s): Petrarca, Francesco
Subject(s): Death; Dead, The


LOVE the ripe harvest of my toils
Began to cherish with his smiles,
Preparing me to be indued
With all the joys I long pursued,
When my fresh hopes, fair and full blown,
Death blasts, ere I could call my own.

Malicious Death! why with rude force
Dost thou my Fair from me divorce?
False Life! why in this loathed chain
Me from my Fair dost thou detain?
In whom assistance shall I find?
Alike are Life and Death unkind.

Pardon me, Love; thy power outshines,
And laughs at their infirm designs.
She is not wedded to a tomb,
Nor I to sorrow in her room.
They, what thou join'st, can ne'er divide
She lives in me, in her I died.





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