That might seem to be just a thing seen, perfectly expressed, so that we too feel the enchantment of the summer day, the stillness and the heat; but if indeed it be written for any one, it might seem to be rather for the blonde Fiammetta than for any other lady.
Anderson
THE STORY OF GRISELDA. (DEC. X, 10)
From the picture by Pesellino in the Morelli Gallery at Bergamo.
Sonnet xvii., however, is, it seems to me as it seemed to Rossetti, clearly Fiammetta's. Is it not a reminiscence of happiness at Baia?
"Love steered my course, while yet the sun rode high,
On Scylla's waters to a myrtle grove:
The heaven was still and the sea did not move;
Yet now and then a little breeze went by
Stirring the tops of trees against the sky: