Thus done into English:—
"When of its pangs my heart doth sore complain,
So that I long to die, fear falls on me,
And saith, what boots such early death to thee,
If far from thy bright sun thou should'st remain.
Then oft from this cold fear is born again
A fervent boldness, which doth presently
Lend my soul wings, so that mortality
Strives to put off its worldly wishes vain.
For this, my spirit here herself enfolds,
And hides from human joys; and not for fame,
Nor empty praise, nor overblown conceit;
But that she hears her sun still call her name,
And still, where'er she looks, his face doth meet,
Who measures all her steps, and all her deeds beholds."
A similar cast of thought, both as regards her own disgust of life and the halo of sanctity, which by some mysterious process of mind she was able to throw around her husband's memory, is found again in this, the last of the sonnets, selected to illustrate this phase of our poetess's mind, and exemplify the first division of her writings.
"Cara union, che in si mirabil modo
Fosti ordinata dal signor del cielo,
Che lo spirto divino, e l'uman velo
Legò con dolce ed amoroso nodo,
Io, benchi lui di si bell'opra lodo,
Pur cerco, e ad altri il mio pensier non celo,
Sciorre il tuo laccio; ni più a caldo o gelo
Serbarti; poi che qui di te non godo.
Che l'alma chiusa in questo carcer rio
Come nemico l'odia; onde smarrita
Ne vive qui, nè vola ove desia.