Ch’amar diè ’l servo ch’el signore adora.
If any beauteous thing
Can human hope exalt to God on high,
For one who hath the vision made as I,
Alone my lady may like comfort bring;
Wherefore it is not strange,
If from the rest I range
To love her, to pursue and supplicate;
’Tis Nature’s law, not mine,
That bids the soul incline