Camoens - The Lyrics part 1 - Sir Richard Francis Burton (1821-1890)

..869 fl!8This Vpiume Is forREFEREh|:E USE ONLY

BY THE SAME AUTHOR,THE LUSIADS, 2 Vols. Fcap. Svo.CAMOENS, LIFE AND LUSIADS, Ditto.LONDON :BERNARD QUARITCH, 15 PICCADILLY, W.

THELYRICKS.PART I.(SONNETS, CANZONS, ODES, AND SEXTINES]ENGLISHED BYRICHARD F.BURTON,And imprintedfor the Translator at London in October^ 1884.LONDON :BERNARD QUARITCH,15 PICCADILLY.1884.ALL RIGHTS RESERVEDj

VmiAN AND SONS, PRINTERS,GREAT QUEEN STREET, LINCOLN S-INN FIELDS,LONDON, W.C.

" Wherefore I bisekke you mekely that ye praye for me thatGod foryeve me my giltes,and nameliche of my translaciouns.''Panones Tak (by Le grand translat&tr)."The things given to the public as poems of Camoens areno more to be found in the original Portuguese than they are inthe Song of Solomon."BYRON.De pocos ha de ser mi voz oida ;Passen los anos, y sera estimada.LOPE DE VEGA.Intendami chi pub, die m3intendo io.Ital Prov.

TOTHE PRINCE OF THE LYRTC POETS OF HIS DAY,ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE.MY DEAR SWINBURNE,Accept the unequal exchange, my brass foryour gold. Your " Poems and Ballads " began to teachthe Philister what might there is in the music oflanguage, and what the marvel of lyricinspiration, farsubtler and more sethereal than mere poetry, means tothe mind of man.Without more ado, allow me to excuse this "transaction" by a something which comes from the East :"A poor man, passing by one day when his Kingtravelled, brought him a little water with both hands,saying :cDrink, my lord, for the heat is great.' Heaccepted It gladly from him, not looking to the smallquality of that service, but only to the good-will withwhich it was offered."DESTERRO, TRIESTE,Believe me ever,Sept. 25, 1884.Your old friend and fellow-traveller,RICHARD F. BURTON.

THE TRANSLATOR'S FOREWORD,I NOW submit to the Public a second section ofmy Master's works, the first Part of his far-famedLyricks. This volume is the fifth of a Camonianseries; and two or three more, which are in MS.,will complete my Labour of Love.It is hard to repress a smile at the thought of thesepages being turned over by Young England of thenineteenth century ;these Sonnets which date fromdays when "courting" was a study; these Odes thatdeal with old Endymion and Achilles, whose seconddeath was after the date of Gray ;these Canzons sofull of shadowy half-expression,of shorthand allusiveness,that every Commentator explains them forhimself. To the inevitable cui lono ? I can only pleada " call " :my translation should be printed eventhoughit had ne'er a reader save the writer. It isinnocuous so far that it can injure no publisher: it isbrought out sumftu meo ; and my friend Mr. Quaritchis strong enough to lend his name without fearing tolose caste. And yet, though my work must be itsown reward, I am not wholly without hope that theLyricksjj

2 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.healthy, manly, hearty old songwill find its littlemeed of appreciation if not of praise.In this volume I follow the lines laid down for myselfin " The Lusiads ;? ; especially the use of archaicismsand of eclectic style. Both stillappear to me necessarywhen translating a poet older than Shakespeare.Over-polish has been especially avoided : the laborlimes of the classics, and the " filing and finishing"of our older writers, was everywhere applied by myPoet to his Epos, not always to his minor pieces.This copyisnaught if not perfectly faithful to itsoriginal ; showing Camoens to the English reader inEnglish dress. At the same time, I have borne inmind Rosetti's dictum" the life-blood of rhythmicaltranslation is, that a good poem should not be turnedinto a bad one."Denham's denunciation of literalism,Again : despiteThat servile path thou nobly dost declineOf tracing word by word and line by line ;despite Johnson, who quotes with approval,These are the labour'd birth of slavish brain,Not the effect of poetry but pain ;and despite the superficial popular paradox, "A literaltranslation is no translation at all," I have done mybest to translate verbatim et literatim / not thought bythought, but word by word. Goethe finally laid downthe law thus": There are two maxims of Translation,The one requires that the author of a foreign

THE TRANSLATOR'S FOREWORD. 3nation be brought to us insuch manner that we regardhim as our own; the other, on the contrary,demands that we transport ourselves to him, andadopt his situation, his mode of speaking, his peculiarities."For authority may be quoted the greatexample of my Master, who, in his Triumphos,translated from Petrarch's Trionfi, sinks his individualityand attempts the replica. Here once moreI have aimed at " Englishing ; 'the style, the idioms*the ifsissima verba of Camoens; I have attemptednot only fidelity, but literality, by making the mostconscientious possible portrait. Perfection may beunattainable in this matter ;but the more we strivefor the beau ideal of translation the less we waste ourtime and our trouble.A few words concerning the contents of this volume.By way of general preface I have prefixed the originalPrologo of Camoens 7 Lyricks which ushered in theEditio Princeps of theRhythmas. The Poems follow inthe order adopted by their earliest Portuguese editors,Faria y Sousa; Joseph Lopes Ferreira; Viscondede Juromenha, and the Bibliotheca da Actualidade(Theophilo Braga). For facility of reference theinitial lines of the texts have been prefixed to thetranslations. In Appendix I. I have offered a fewobservations upon the Lyricks of the "PortugueseApollo." To avoid troubling my readers and cumberingmy pages with notes I have inserted the fewabsolutely required into the Index of First Lines(Appendix II.), after the fashion of certain PortugueseB 2

4 LYJUCKS OF CAMOENS.editions. Most of the subjects treated in theRhythmas have already been noticed in " Camoens,his Life and his Lusiads " and to these twojvolumesthe student is referred.It may conciliate some enmities and captivate,perhaps, some good-will when I abjure all pretensionsto rank as a Poet. No one more fully appreciatesthe difference between " making " and translating ;between the Poetes (the Creator) and the copier whoaspires only to second prizes, to " increase the returnsor revenues of knowledge, but not the stock orinheritance." ambition is limited to the humblerboast,MyPus dieus m' a dat saberE entendemen verBe trobar, etc.Also let me request English readers, who would forma critical estimate of the Camonian Sonnet, to renewtheir acquaintance with those of Shakespeare andSpenser. Finally they might oblige me by rememberingthe weighty words of Milton": Books arenot dead things, but do contain, as in a phiall, thepotent efficacy of the spirit that bred them." Theywill not find a nobler spirit than Camoens.In preparing this volume I have been aided by ahost of " with-workers." Amongst them I mustmention with cordial expressions of gratitude thenames of my correspondents, M. J. J. Aubertin andDr. Wilhelm Storck, Professor der deutschen Spracheund Literatur, at Miinster. This learned German,

THE TRANSLATOR'S FOREWORD* 5the first translator of all Camoens' Obras, has notonly published in five volumes the Redondilhas andLetters (i) ;the Sonnets (2) ;the Elegies, Sextines,Odes and Octaves (3); the Canzons and Idylls,or Eclogues (4) ;The Lusiads (5) ;and the Theatre(6) ;he has, moreover, illustrated his versions withcritical notes and text- emendations which are mostvaluable to the student of Camoens.RICHARD R BURTON.

PROLOGOOFFERNANDO RODRIGUES LOBO SURRUPITA,(Editor's Preface to his Readers.}WHEREAS this Book must come into the hands ofthe many; and whereas it were impossible that allshould be equal in the knowledge of things requiredfor its intendiment, meseemeth not a little profitableto advert briefly upon some of the subjects; such,for instance, as the title and the distribution of thework, and also the author thereof. And, beginningwith the title, the term Rhythmas (which the Italiansand the French pronounce without the aspirates)descendeth from 'Pvfyuoe, a Greek vocable signifyingThus declare Diomedes Gram-Number or Harmony.maticus and Nicol&o Perotto^ in the " Cornucopia,"the Commentary on the fourth Epigram. In eithersignification it applieth especially to the verse ofItalian measure ;because this consisteth not only ofa certain number of syllables, but also containeth theHarmony produced by the Accents and the Consonants(rhymes); as proveth Benedetto Varchi^ in

8 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.Ms Dialogo Tusculano (Enquiry IX.). Nor doth thisadmit of doubt, for the Corpus of every manner ofPoem iscomposed of Number and whenceHarmony',the definition of Posidonius, the Stoick, "NumberedDiction," consisting of a certain measure or metre,as Laertius hath it in his Life of Zeno. So true it isthat Socrates, having been counselledby an Oraclethat, if he would attain to happiness, he must applyhis mind to Musick, understood thereby that hewould satisfy the intent of such counsel by employinghimself wholly in making Verses, the Numbersor Harmony of which are part of the sameMusick, even as relateth Celio Calcagnino? in theOration which he made in Praise of the Arts. Hencealso proceeded the Etymology of this term " Poet,"which, conformably with the opinion of Eustathius,followed by Rhodiginus^ in his fourth Book, is derivedfrom TTOicT^ in the sense of l/z/zeVpwc ae/âv, meaningamtare, to sing. This wise also affirmeth the sameNicolao Perotto (on the fifthEpigram) ; and, therefore,Dante called Poetry 5 a "rhetorical Fiction setto Musick."That the Title of Rhythmas besitteth this workalso appeareth clearly from a Discourse made byCardinal Pietro Bembo, 6 in the second Book of hisProsas, wherein he saith that Rhyihmas (or "Rimas?as he writeth the word) be of three modes ; for theyare either regulate or they or aiQfreey they are partlyfree and partly regulate.Regulate we term those Rhythmas which are ever

PROLOGO, 9subject to one and the same Rule such,;be the" Tercets," or triple rhymes, of which Dante is supposedto have been the inventor, for that, beforehim, they were made by none. 7 Regulate also are the" " Octaves (Ottava rima) devised by the Sicilians,who assigned to each of them only two Consonantsor :Rhymes the same -were afterwards reduced toConsonant ina better form by the Tuscans, a thirdthe last Couplet being introduced by them.Of thissort, further, were the "Sextines," an invention ofthe Proven faux, especially of Arnaldo Daniel?Free Rhythmas are those which do not keep anyRule, either in the Number of the Verses or in theCorrespondence of the Consonants. Such is the"Madrigal," 9 derived from Mandra, a Tuscan vocable,this being a Composition of Villeins, or country-folk,and corresponding with our Portingall Villancetes.Rhythmas partly free and partly regulate be thosewhich in some things go subject to Rule, and whichin others are exempted from it Of such sort arethe "Sonnet" and the "Canzon"; for Sonnets, althoughobliged to follow the same Rule in the Numberand in the Disposition of their Verses, withal, inthe Correspondence of Consonants, they have nocertain obligeance. This was shown by Rengifo^ inhis Ars Poetica (Cap. XLIIL), wherein, however, hefolloweth the Observations made with abundant Judgementand Genius by Torquato Tasso in his Dialogodella Poesia Toscana. The "Canzons" 11 partake ofthe same Nature, as ispointed out by the same

10 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.Rengifo (Cap. LIX. et seq.}. Sayinghave justified the Title.thus much weFolloweth the Distribution of the work, whichis divided into five parts, because the Numberquinary especially appertaineth to works of Poesyand of Eloquence. This is clearly seen for-thatconformably with the doctrine of the Platonists, itwas dedicated to Mercunus and to other gods, who,according to their gentilick rite, were the Patrons ofthe Arts, as Rhodiginus writeth (Lib. xii. Cap. 10),and they held Mercurius to be the Deity of Eloquence ;and therefore, as relateth Vincendo Cartario}* in hisBook on the "Images of the Gods," they consecratedto him the Tongues (of victims).This being the casewith Eloquence, the same became that of Poetry\ byvirtue of the alliance subsisting between the twain ;agreeably to the definition of Dante and Posidonius.And therefore the fifth letter of the Greek alphabetwas dedicated to Apollo, as writeth GuillelmusOnciacus^ in his " Book of Places " (NumeraliumLocorum Decas, Cap. V.). Also of the Muses, albeitthey number nine, only five had the Government ofPoesy ; because to Clio was attributed the Subject ofVerse, she presiding over History to ; Polymnia theadornment of Language; the Epos Heroical toCalliope; to Melpomene the Tragick ;and to Thaliathe Comickj conformably with the vulgar Epigramwhich goeth amongst those of Virgilius.Following, then, such Distribution, we have assignedthe First Place to the Sonnets, these being Compo-

sitions of the highest Merit byPROLOGO. 1 1reason of theirDifficulty ;for not only do they refuse admittanceeither to an idle word or to a word of little weight^they must alscr include the whole of their Subjectmatterwithin the term of fourteen Lines ;and theymust be closed by the last Tercet in such sort that theunderstanding feel no desire to pass onwards, amatter wherein many Poets who fly upon the wingsof Fame have not proved themselves happy. 14fThe second place was given to the Odes whichcorrespond with Verses Lyrical, as showeth Fernandode Herrera 15 in his most erudite " Commentary " onthe first Canzon of Garcilasso. The third to theElegies and to the Octaves^ forms which we cannotfind that Petrarch used, 16 whilst both were cultivatedwith great felicity by Ariosto ; and, peradventure, heknew better to imitate, in the perfection of ElegiackVerse, Tibullus and Propertius (who be the Princesof this Genus) than Virgilius in the Majesty of theHeroick. Fourthly come the Eclogues because 'tis aspecies of composition which requireth less competency;and in this form, leaving aside Theocritusand VirgiliuS) especial excellence was attained bySannazaro, as also by Bernardino Rota in his PiscatoryEclogues^7 The fifth and final place was assigned tothe Grosas, the Voltas and other compositions inshort (octosyllabic) verse, which are peculiar to ourSpain. 18 In these Gregorio Sylvestre 19 showed notablesuperiority amongst all the Spaniards ; of a truthhe would have held the first place had it not been

12 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.taken from him by Luis BE CAMOENS forthe acutenessof his conceits and the propriety of his Diction,as well as for the ability of submitting to impossibleRules, an ability which he displayed much more in hisother Rhythmas, as we shall presently say.And pursuing with the Poet (which be the thirdpart of this itPrologue), were evident Rashness toattempt his Eulogy. For albeit many others wonFame in some individual Perfection ; natheless not afew of them wanted the natural Disposition whichwould have made easy to them the contexture ofVerse ; hence they elaborated it with such Asperityand Difficulty that they would seem todeflower theirwords and to beget upon them Conceits par force, 20and thus they fail of this Suavity wherein Poesy herselfconsists, agreeably to the Doctrine of Fracastorttts inhis "Dialogue" entitled Naugerio and taken from\JBoratius and Quintilianm. Others again, who drewnearer to Nature, fell short either because they wereunhappy in choice of Terms ; or because they lackedthe Wealth of Words wherewith to attire and toadorn Speech, together with the Beauties ofLanguage, such as the Tropes and Figures, withoutwhich Cicero and Virgilius never spake ; or, finally,because they employ expressions so homely andcommonplace, as if the very constitution of Poesywere not Elevation above vulgar usage, conformablywith the opinion of Plutarchus in his Tractate, " Deroesiis " and of Khodiginus (Lib. iv. Cap. 4).Others, who have better Gifts of Langmge possess

PROLOGO.no Learning wherewith to illustrate their works; itbeing a Truth (as saith Rhodiginus in Cap. 2same Eook), thatof thethey only may be lawfully entitledPoets who displayed a knowledge of various Sciences,as did Orpheus, Homeros, Virgilius and Pindaros.Now, Luis BE CAMOENS, on the other hand, is sofarremoved from all such Defects that we see in himconjointly the promptest natural Disposition to expresshis Thoughts, accompanied with an innate Facilitywhich fills his Verse with Sweetness ; and, withal, aDiction so pure, so ornate with all the Splendours ofEloquence^ and so rich in the Conceits and Jewels ofevery Science, that it would seem as if in him aloneArt and Nature had conjoined every requisite for,rising to the height of Poesy.And besides being excellent in all modes ofRhythmas, especially in shorter Verse, as we havealready said, he is most happy in the Canzon, 21 keepingevery Law of that Composition in such mannerthat he hath no cause to envy Petrarch^ Bembo> andGarrilasso, who are the most lauded in this department.And he holdeth the same Place in the greaterpart of his Sonnets ;and he would have held it allhad not some, which do here figure as his, beenthrown off with scanty care at the importunity ofFriends. Hence ithappens that oft-times they cameto aid those who asked aid, with more of haste thanof the obligatory filing and finishing; and, finally,,they are printedas his without the will of the Author.This is not the Place to treat of the Style heroical t

14 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.the task may be left to him who shall comment uponThe LusiadaP* But what may here be said is thatour Poet carried out so literally and so completelythe Obligations of the Epos, that if it did not seemArrogance we might assign to him a Seat hard bythat occupied by Virgilius ; for in the Grandeur, theGravity, and the Harmony of the Words; in theTracing and the Discursus of the Work, and in theSublimity of the Subject, he everywhere followedVirgiliushis footsteps. And in all his Fictions andAllegories, without which there can be no HeroickPoem (agreeably to the opinion of Aristotle as quotedby Rhodiginus in the same Lib. iv. Cap. 4 ;and tothe writings of Plutarchus, who in the place abovereferred to reprehends Empedocles, Parmenides, Nicandrosand Theognides for usurping the name of Poet,because they wrote verses rich only in Learning butunaccompanied by Imagination), in this matter, I say,he showed a genius so admirable as well nigh to rivalHomeros. Would that he had been able to abasehis Grandeur in some of his Eclogues by conformingthem more with the style BucolickfAnd although our Poet lack not Detractors tocalumniate his Works, yet doth Detraction by nomeans obscure their Desarts* For both Virgilius andHomeros underwent this trial, which naturally awaitsall rare and seld-seen Genius. So true it is that theGrammarian Carvilius^ writ a whole book upon theErrors of Virgilius : also Caligula, the Cc&sar, daredaffirm that the Poet had neither Ability nor Erudi-

tion ;and resolved upon sendingPROLOGO, 15an Order to bumall his Works and Portraits stored in sundry Bibliothecê.So relate Suetonius Tranquillus and PedroCrinito in " De Poetis Latinis," libri iii. 25And now remaineth only to remind the Readerthat the Errors met with in this Impression wereneither neglected nor unobserved by him who assistedin copying the Book. 26 But it was deemed a lesserinconvenience to let them appear as they were found(collating them, however, with certain Hand-lookswherein the Works were quoted fragmentary), thanto violate the Compositions of another, without anevident Certainty that the Emendations would be trueand correct. For allgood understandings will reservethe Right of Judgment that these be notErrors of the Author, but the Cankers of Time andthe careless Inadvertency of Copyists. And here wefollow what approved itself to Augustus Ccesar who,in the Commission entrusted by him to Varius andto Tucca, expressly forbade them to change anythingof Virgilius or to add aught of their own. For thiswould be, in fine, to confound the Substance of theVerses and the Author's Conceits with the Emendator'sWords and Inventions without consequent assurance,withal, of the readings being either original oremended. Here, therefore, no action has been takensave only in whatsoever clearly shows itself to be aFault of the Pen : the remainder goes forth even as itwas found written, and very different from what itwould have been had Luis DE CAMOENS printedit

1 6 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.during his Life-term. But even thus, and despitethe Injuries of Time and Ignorance, the Light of ourPoet's Merits shines with splendour sufficient to preventour envying in this Form of Poesy any strangerPeople.(Signed)FERNAO RODRIGUES LOPO SURRUPITA,Licentiate and Advocate in this Court.* 1

LYRICKS OF CAMOENS. 17NOTES,THE following lemarks upon the " Prologo " are borrowed fromvarious sources. And here I take with pleasure the opportunityof acknowledging the able and friendly assistance of my learnedfriend,^ the Petrarchist, Dr. Attilio Hortis, chief librarian to theMttseo Civico, Trieste.1Diomedes Grammaticus (before 6th century) wrote " : DeOratione et Partibus Orationis, et vario Genere MetrorurnLibri JII."ad Athanasium (Hephosstion edit. Gaisford. pp. 43142). Nicolao Perotto (Nicolaus Perottus), born in 1430 atSassoferrato ; professed Poetry and Rhetoric at Bologna 1452);was raised by Pius II. to the Archbishopric and Governorshipof Umbria, Spoleto, and Perugia, and died in 1480. Amongstmany works famous in his day, he left one " De Metris, sivede Genere Metrorum;" Venet. 1497. For further details see1Part III., Sect. I, p. 695, "Lehrbuch einer Literaturgeschichte,'by Dr. Johann G. Th. Grasse ;Dresden and Leipzig, 1837.2The well-known Benedetto Varchi, of Florence (born onMarch 19, 1503 ; died about set. 62), of the Betti and Franchifamilies, lived and laboured in troublous times, and provedhimself a firm friend of the Medici. His epitaph in the ChurchDegli Angeli, Florence, assures us that his life was spent sine21lid avaritia aut ambitiam. The text refers to the Dialoguecalled after Count Cesare Ercolano. Varchi's principal workwas the " Storia Florentina" (16 books 1523-37): he was anindefatigable sonnetteer, his productions numbering 958 ; andhis collected "Opere" fill two volumes large 8vo; Trieste,Lloyd Austriaco, 1858.3 Celio Calcagnino, of Ferrara (died in 1541), wrote chieflyupon antiquities and classical subjects his works are now more:quoted than read.Lyricksr

1 8 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.4Rhodiginus (/>., of Rovigo): Ludovicus Celius Ricchieri,bomcirc. 1450. He was protected by FrancoisI.during theItalian troubles, and he issupposed to have died brokenheartedafter the Battle of Pavia. He " left Antiquarurn LectionumLibri xvi." (Venice, 1516; Paris, 1517); his life waswritten by Camillo Silvestri (Raccolta Calogera, IV. p. 157),and he is mentioned in the " Storia " of Tiraboschi (Vol. VIII.Part II. p. 225).5Dante so defines poetry in his famous philosophico- metricalTreatise ** De Vulgan Eloquio." It has been introduced to theEnglish public by the late Dante Gabriel Rossetti, painter andpoet."Rhythmus," says Aristoxenus of Tarentum, a high authorityquoted by Dr. Francis Hueffer (" The Troubadours," etc.;London, Chatto and Wmdus, 1878), "is the division of time intoequally recurring paits longer and shorter (z.. quantity), madeperceptible to certain metrical movements (TO pvOfjuZopti/ov").In music it is the notes of a melody (/z*Xo); in dancing, bodilygesture ((TnuâriK)} Kivtvic}; and in poetry, diction (X*.). Theweaker part of the metre was originally called apcrtg whenthe voice or the foot was raised (a/ sis at elevatio); and thestronger was QkmQ, when the tone fell as the dancer trod theground (thesis est deposilio t'ocis ac remissio}. The terms havefrequently changed meaning, and in Latin they were applied notto quantity, but to that rhetorical accent, as inDies iras,dies iliawhich by slow degrees overcame its rival, and led to thedevelopment of "Rhyme" or "Rime" proper. The latterwas known to Homer and Horace, but the rhythmical principleprevented its development. *6 Little need be said concerning Bembo, the Platonist andPetrarchist (born in 1470), who was made a Cardinal malgrc* Nil satis est pulchra esse :poemata dulcia sun toEt quocumque volent anirnum auditoris agunto.II Epist., III. 99, 100.So I Odes, I. 2, 3. Meum + Olympicum I :Odes, VIII. 4, 5,Solis T militaris and many others.

NOTES. 19/#/, and who consoled himself with Poetry partly amorous.His portraits show a marked Hebrew face, much resemblingthe late Sir Charles Napier (of Sind). His works fill 12 vols.Svo (Milano, Soc. Tipograf. de' Classici Italian!, 1808); and his"Rime" (Venice, 1530) are still read.7 The assertion is over-hasty. Fr. Bernardo de Brito's"Chronica de Cister" (Lib. VI. Cap. I, m. fol. 372) quotedHendecasyllabics by Gongalo Hermigues (circa 1090) beforeCount Hemique had entered Portugal. A hundred and seventyyears afterwards D. Dmiz (King Dennis, or Dionysius), whowas born three or four years before Dante (A.D. 1265), wrotemany Hendecasyllabics, and presumably Tercets. In the Dedicatoryof his " Chronica Geral de Hispanha" (printed atValencia, 1546), Pedro Antam Beuter states that a certainMossen Jordi, who flourished about 1250, composed sonnets,Sextines and Terccroles, which are Tercets ; moreover, that heborrowed this form from older rhymers, such as the HohenstaufenEmperor Friedrich II. and his son Enzio (nthcentury). Beuter quotes the following verses by Jono he pace^ c no tinch qiiim guarreig:Vol sobrcl Cdl, e non movl di terra ;JS no estrench rts, etot la man abrds :Hoy he de mi\ e vitll altri gran be,6ino amor, dons aco que sem ?(There be be no Peace, yet have I none to war ;O'er Heaven I flyand never faie from Eaith ;And nought hold I, yet all the world embrace :I hate myself and love another well,If that n'is Love then what bin it I feel ?)The idea is thus borrowed by Petrarch :Pace non trovo, e non ho dafarguerra, etc.(Peace find I not, and may I not make war.)I Sonnet, Part I. 90.From Petrarch it was imitated, or rather translated, byCamoenSj whose Sonnet IX. begins:Tanto de men esfado me acho incerto,C 2etc.

20 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.the germ may be found in the "Amo et odi" ofAnd, after all,Catullus.8 Arnaut Daniel (Arnaldo Danielle), of Ribeyrac, thefamous poet and musician, Troubadour and Joglar (jocularius}of the I2th century, from whom Dante borrowed the structureof sundry stanzas, and whom Petrarch ("Triumphs of Love,"Cap. IV.) entitles "Gran maestro d'amor." He died after averyaccidented life in A.D. 1189.9 Mandriale (Madriale, Madrigale, Madrigal) derives from,the Greek, Ital. and Span. Alandra or Mandria, a flock orfold. Antonio da Tempo (p. 139, edit. Guion) adds, "AMandra pecndum et pastorum, quia primo moclum ilium rithimandiet cantandi habuimus ab ovium pastoribus. Menage"quotes the French Mandre (sheepfold), and deduces it fromdvrpov, a cave I ; prefer to consider it a congener of the Arab.Mandarah (Manzar), a look-out place, adopted by the SicilianGreeks from their "Semitic" (Arabian) neighbours. Theoldest Madrigals were of two " kinds, Mandriales Communes "and " JMandriales cum retornelKs," i.e. caudati, cowee'd withsingle lines, or with couplets. Carducci (Studi Litterari) notesthat the Madrigal should conserve its old simplicity : " Uneco di beliti ci si aveva sempre a sentire, ma per benino, inguisa che assomigliasse a un sospiro dell' anima." ThePortuguese " Villancete " is the Spanish Villancico, a song of"Villeins," or peasants.10Rengifo (Juan Diaz), Professor of Grammar and Rhetoric,whose "Arte Poetica Espanola" (Salamanca, 1592, 4to),treats of the technique of the older Castilian composition andof the Italian innovations due to Boscan and Garcilasso. Forample details see Bouterwek (Eng. Trans, p. 103 seq.), andVol. III. p. 265, etc., "History of Spanish Literature," byGeorge Ticknor ; London, Trubner, 1863.11The Canzon was affected by Guide Guinicelli, theBolognese, who flourished in the early I3th century, beforeDante's day. Longfellow (Dante, II. 304, Tauchnitz edit.)quotes Rossetti's translation of his most famous production, aCanzon on the Nature of Love, which won high praise fromthe Author of the Commedia (Purg., XXVI. 90-100). Of his

NOTES. 2 1life little is known. In AppendixI. the reader will find furthernotices of the Canzon.12Vincentio Cartario or Cartari (Vmcentius Cartarius), anow forgotten archosologue of the i6th century. It may herebe noted that certain mediaeval writers looked upon Mercury,with his wings and his functions, as the "Angel" of Jupiter ;the same was the case with Iris.13Onciacus, or Onciatus, Guillaume d'Oncieu, a Frenchwriter of repute on Jurisprudence. Besides the "Decas" (ivol. Svo, 1584) he wrote eight works duly enumerated in thatportable publication, "Grosses Universal Lexicon," von J. H.Zedler, Leipzig und Halle, 1740, in 64 vols. folio.14Surrupita alludes generally to a common defect in sonnetwritingwhere the subject is left incomplete and the readerremains in expectancy, as it were, of what the writer is aboutto say. He may refer especially to a sonnet of his contempo-Antonio Ferreira,:beginningrary,

22 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.many works were a poem on the Battle of Lepanto, Don Johnof Austria being one of his favourite heroes ; and an Ode onthe defeat and death of Dom Sebastiam. His unpublishedEclogues are lost ;his other writings were brought out (1619)by his friend Francisco Pacheco, the painter, with a preface byRioja. Pie was a lover of the (Petrarchian) "sonetto," whichhe declared to be " the most beautiful form of composition inSpanish and Italian poetry, and the one which demands the"most art in its construction and the greatest grace (Ticknor).15Petrarch wrote nothing which he entitled " Elegies/' orfuneral odes; but his Trwnfi, composed in terza lima, are purelyelegiac. In some editions of his works (e.g., that of Naples,1609, l6mo) a short poem in Tercets entitled Capitttlo^ possiblyby the printers, is also an elegy, beginning :Nel cor pint di amarissima dolcezza, etc.(Within a heart which brims with bitterest sweet.)17To Sannazaro and Rota the Prologist might have addedLoclovico Paterno in Italy, and the unrivalled GarciJasso inSpain. Rota (born in 1409 and died in 1575) was a Neapolitanof knightly family, who wrote much Latin verse and a Canzoniere(Song-book) of some celebrity. His fame rests uponhis "Egloghe Piscatorie," which number fourteen (i vol. I2mo,104 pp.): their nobility of style, harmonious proportions andgraceful execution have entitled their author the " Sannazaroof Halieutics." The favourite metre is the hendecasyllabic withhalf-lines, as in the Canzon. Camoens seems to have readRota, judging from such passages as :O Cimodoce, o Dcto, o Panopea18"Hispanha" here including Portugal. The " Grosa,"now written Glosa," means primarily a gloss proper,tsecondarily a short poetical composition after the manner ofimpromptus. The ( 'Volta," etymologically signifying a turn,a Ritornelle, a song with a "bob" or burden, will be noticedat full length in a future page. The author is hardly justifiedin saying that the Glosa is peculiar to the Iberian Peninsula :Italy knows nothing older than the popular Stornello. And heiscertainly incorrect when he makes the "Verso pequenho," or

NOTES. 23octosyllabic line, proper to Spain." Not to mention the IambicDimeter of the Greeks and Romans, the Celtic Bards carefullycultivated this measure, \\hich they adorned with rhyme, and,in this matter, they set the example to Southern Europe.19Gregorio Sylvestre deserves, this praise as a writer of octo-S} liable "Glosas." A Portuguese, born in Lisbon and broughtup in Spain where his life was spent, he treated many othersubjects in "short verse," and he shared popularity withGaici Sanchez de Badajoz ;Bartholomeu de Torres Naharro;D. Juan Fernandez de Heredia, and Christoval de Castillejo.II is works weie printed in Lisbon by Manuel de Lyra (I2mo,1592), and at Granada by Sebastiam de Mena (i vol. Svo).-This again issupposed to allude to Antonio Ferreira, arhymer charged with using redundant words with; ignoring theti'pwta, which Quincnhan calls "Vocahtas IJ ; and with notsatisfying the conditions of Aristotle (''De A. P.," Cap. i.) concerningimitation, harmony and number. The same critiquemight apply to Diogo Bernardes, the tc sweet singer of theLima" (Almeida Garrett), and to his contemporary, PedroAndrade Cammha.- lAs will be seen, opinions differ upon this subject (AppendixI. 2).asThe sentence was thus printed by the Prologist in his firstedition. In the second, however, the Jriends of Manoel Correa,who wrote a meagre study of Camoens and his Epos (see" Camoensj his Life and his Lusiads," Vol. I. p. 109), had thewoids changed to " Tratar do estylo Heroico nam he destelugar ; forque o Licenciado Manoel Coj'rea, que estd commentandositas Lusiadas, terd esse cuidado" Note the change of"Lusiada" to "Lusiadas."23Camoens, in his Eclogues as in his Epic, imitated Virgilrather than the greater master of Pastoral Poetry Theocritus.Hence his Bucolics, Agreutics and Halieutics are held to bepitched in too high a key, and the reproach is especially levelledat Numbers i, 2 and 6.24 Carvilius Pictor, alias the Grammarian, wrote the celebrated./Erteidomastix according to the Pseudo-Donatus, "VitaVirgil.," p. 62.

24 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.24 Petrus Crinitus : "De Poetis Latinis," etc., Libri I I.(Florence, 1505). He composed Carmina and many otherworks duly catalogued by Grasse, Part III. pp. 754-878.25Manoel de Faria y Sousa, the Arc Ii- Commentator, whowill often be mentioned (Appendix I.), was scandalised by theevident faultiness of the Editio Prmceps. With incrediblediligence and immense labour he collated the various copies ofCamoens' Works ("Camoens: his Life and his Lusiads," I.107). Throughout his four folios he constantly alludes to hisCommentary on the Redondilhas (roundels), Glosas andVoltas. The manuscript must have been well known in theearly part of this century; the Didot edition (Paris, 1815) mentionsit as "existing in the Library of the R. Convent, Na. Sa.da Gra9a of Lisbon," and indeed the Editor, by favour of theLibrarian, had leave to copy from it (Vol. IV., Prolog p. vi.)Report says that when Monastic Orders were abolished, theMSS. in three vols. found their way to the Central Depot, SamFrancisco da Cidade. At my request a friend, D. EduardoVanzeller, made inquiries for these papers which I am anxiousto have published:unfortunately the search failed, and we findreason to fear a final disappearance. I cannot but blame theCommittee of Management for the Camoens Centenary (1880) :a vast mass of matter, mostly rubbish, was printed, whilstnothing was done to rescue from oblivion the valuable legacyleft by the Arch- Commentator. *17The {< Court " is Lisbon in Portugal, Madrid in Spain.* F. y S. died in the house of the Marquess de Montebello,Madrid, and the autopsy showed liver-disease. The learnedViscount Juromenha writes that the library of the Duke deVilla Hermosa (Madrid) may contain, and in fact he has heardthat it does contain, certain MSS. of the Arch-Commentator.He justly observes "quern quer vai" ; but the venerable Editorhas not yet found an opportunity.

LYRICKS OF CAMOEXS.SONNETS,

LYRICKS OF CAMOENS,LEm quanta quis Fortima que tivesse(General Proposition or Proemiutn of Rhythmas, Petrarch, I.i),While Fortune willed that for me be dightSome grateful Esperance of some glad Content,The gust of loving Thought a longing lentTo pen its pleasures and its pains to write :But Love, in terror lest my Writ inditeLere for the judgment he hath never shent,So with his darkling pains my Genius blentThat mote I never tell his tale of sleightO ye, whom Love's obligeance may subjectTo Wills so divers ! when you read thereofBound in one Booklet cases so diverse ;(Which all be truthful, facts without defect)Learn that according as you have the Love,So shall you have the Lore, of this my verse.

26 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.II.En cantarey de Auwr tao docemenfe,(Particular Proem of the Love-songs, Petrarch, I. 87),,My song of Love I will so sweetly sing,In such fair concord of concerted phrase,That twice a thousand chances Love displaysShall breasts unmoved with emotion wring.I'llso do Love new Life to all shall bring,Limning nice secrets in a thousand ways,Soft angers, sighs that yearn for bygone days.Foolhardy Daring, Absence and her sting.Yet, Ladye of that honest open scorn1Shown by your eye-glance, blandly rigorous,I must content me saying minor part:To sing the graces which your geste adorn,Your lofty composition marvellous,Here lack me Genius, Lere, and Poet-art.III.Com grandes esperan$as ja cantey,(Petrarch, L 144-145 ;also Pietro Bembo).Whilere I sang my song with hope so highMight win the godheads in Olympus-wone ;Then for my singing ; gan I weep and moan,And now for weeping yet again weep I.When viewed my Past with meditative eyeCosts me the memory such high price, I ownThat grief of seeing griefs so woebegoneIs greatest grievance of my griefs gone by.

SONNETS. 27Then, if 'tis clear that whatso Ills torment meMust gar increased other Ills torment,Now can I never hope that aught content me.But is this only Fancy's False that shent ?O feckless Vision, idle Thought that blent me IWhat !I, e'en I, can hope to see Content ?IV.Despoys que quis Amor qne eu so passasse(The pains and inquietude of love. Cf. Canz. X.).When Love so willed on me alone be ventedWhat Ills for many had reparted He,He made me Fortune's thrall,No more that mote in me be represented:for He could seeShe, that her gain from Love should be augmentedÎn pains he only doomed me to dree,What for none other wight consented she,Gave her consentment be for me invented.Lo !here with various song fare I complaining,Copious and exemplaire for one and all,Subject to serve this Tyrant tway's behest,My various madness in my verse constraining,Sad whoso straighteneth in such guise his Rest,And rests contented with a boon so small !

5? 8 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.V.Em prisoens baxasfuy hum tempo atado ;(He laments the loss of his loved ancilla).I lay in Durance vile long while detained,The shameful quittance of my faults to pay :E'en now my fetters drag I on my way,The chains by Death, to my despight, unchained :I sacrificed life to cares unfeigned,For Love ne'er loveth steer or lamb to slay:Exiles I saw, saw misery, saw dismay ;Meseems this hapless Life was so ordained.J waxt contented with small mercies, knowingThat such Contentment were but shame to hend,Sole for the sighting what were life's delight.But now my star (how well I see its showing !),And blinding Death, and Chance of dubious end,Made me all pleasures view with naught butfright.VI.Ilustre, e digno Ramo dos Memses,(To D. Fernando, en route for Red Sea?).Illustrious Scion of the tree Meneses !To whom large-handed,allprovidingHeaven(Which kens not erring) heritage hath given,To crush the harness which the Moor encases :Despising Fortune, spurning her mismazes,Go whither Fate shall guide you foewards driven :On Erythrean deeps light fiery leven,And be new splendour to the Portugueses.

SONNETS. 29Lay with firm Will, with forceful Breast abateThe insolent Pyrat,till Gedrosia dreadAnd quake the classic Taprobanian shore.Cause of new tincture lend the Arabian StraitSo may the Red Sea front henceforth be red,Reddened with glowing of the Turk-man's gore.VII.No tempo que de Amor viver sofa,(The inconstancies of his youth. Cf. Canz. II. 6 ;VIII. 2).When love, love only, was my daily diet,I fared not always iron'd to oar and chain ;(Nay) tied at times and then untied again,In various flames with "varied Passions' riot.Willed not that single flame my heart disquietThe Heavens, so mote I hard experience gainNo change of cause in lover-care Is fainTo work a changing of my Fortune's fiat.And if awhile I fared fancy-free,JTwas like the wight who rests for breathing sakeTill with more vigour to his tasks turn he.Laud to the Love-god in my misery !Since for his pastime he was pleased takeThis my so weary long-drawn agony.

30 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.VIII.Amor^ que o gesto humano na Alma escrere,(The sight of his lover's tears).Amor, who human geste on Soul doth write,One day showed sparkles twain of lively Sheen,Whence purest Chrystal poured in currents twin,'Mid living Rose and Snow-plot virgin- white.Mine eyes that dared not trust them to such;sight,For certifying what could there be seen,Were to a fount convert, which made my teenOf easy sufferance and my load more light.Love swears that softening Will and gentling GreeGender the first effect, but then the ThoughtMaddens the man who deems it verity.Look ye how Love hath in one moment broughtFro' tears, which honest Pity.setteth free,Tears with immortal satisfaction fraught.IX.Tanto de men cstado me acJw incerto,(Petrarch, I. 90).I find so many doubts my State enfold,I thrill in living lowe with trembling chill :Sans cause I laugh and tears conjointly spill ;I grasp at all the World and naught I hold :Whatso I feel is of disordered mould :My soul outpoureth fire, my eyes a rill :Now gladly hope I, then despairs my Will :Now Reason wanders, then grows calm and cold.

SONNETS.Being in Earth-Life unto Heaven I fly :Find in one hour one thousand years, nathelessIn thousand years I find no hour to claim.If any ask me wherefore so fare I ;My answer is Iknow not, yet I guessTis but because I saw your sight,Madame ITransforma se o amador na coma amada^(He corrects a carnal thought. Cf. Sonnet 31, Canz. I. 3).Becomes the Lover to the Loved transmewed,By thoughts and reveries the Fancy fire :Then have I nothing left me to desire,For the Desired is in me endued.If my transmewed soul in her be viewed,What can my formal body look for higher ?retire,Only in self for Rest it canSince that same Spirit hath my form imbrued.But this half-goddess with fair purity fraught,As Subject dwells in Accident inlaid,So to this Soul of mine shows self conform ;E'en as Idea fares she in my Thought ;AVhile the pure lively Love whereof I'm made,Like unto simple Matter seeks its Form.

32 LYRICKS OF CAMOENSvXI.Passo for meus trabalhos tarn isento(He wants more painad majorem Amoris gloriam).I through my travails pass so fancy-freeFro' Sentiment, or high or low its vein,That for the Love-will wherewithal I pain,Love more of torture oweth to my fee.But Love so slowly fareth slaying me,With Theriack temperingstill his draught venene ?His ordered pains ordained I disordain,For-that my sufferings nill consent agree.Yet, an such fineness lurk in Love's intent,Mine Ills with other Ills to pay pretending,This joyaunce melts me as Sol melts the Snow,But an he view me so with Ills content,The Niggard grudgeth me his pains, intendingThe more he pays me, still the more he owe.XII.JZmflor vos arrancou, de entao credda^(Of Dom A. de Noronha slain at Ceuta).In flower uprooted you, Bloom yet unblown,(Ah, Dom Antonio !),Fortune's dire decree,Where your brave arm display'd such braveryThat hath o'er past Renown oblivion thrown.One single reason to my thought is known,Wherewith so care-full teen shall comfort seeThat if an honoured Death i' the world there be ?No larger life-tide could your Spirit own.

SONNETS. 33An hold my humble verse a verve so strongThat to my heart-felt Hope respond my Art,You shall supply me theme of special Glory ;And sung in long-drawn and in saddest song,If you were slain by hand of cruel Mart,You shall immortal live in mortal story.XIII.jardim adornado de verdura,(To Violante, the Violet, fair and pure).Into a garden verdure-deckt and dight,Where varied flowers amelled floors of green,One day came pacing Love's own goddess-queenWith the Hunt-goddess whom the groves delight.Diana straightway pluckt a Rose pure-white,Venus a Lily of the reddest sheen ;But far exceeding a' the lave were seenThe Violets clad in loveliness and light.Both ask of Cupid, who stood nigh in stead,Which of those flowrets three he fainest takeFor suavest, purest, which the loveliest shows.Then the Boy, slily smiling, this wise said,"They all be beauties, natheless I makeViola anteceding Lily, much more Rose I"Lyricks

34 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.XIV.Todo animal da calma repousava,(Cry of Jealousy).All animals rested in the Noontide stillLiso alone felt naught of midday-glow ;For-that his respite from his lover-loweLay in the Nymph he sought to allay his 111 :Made every mountain-height to shake and thrill :The triste complainings of his throe-full woeBut ne'er that hardened bosom ruth would show,The willing Captive of another Will.Now worn by wander 'neath the bosky shade,For Memory sake, deep in a beechen bole.He graved these words that told his misery :"Dtonx IHJT &&t\ flaftmirg auction to Ijisgis trust m SSaman's teasf, inljicljitotfjhtg constant safe ^ncansian:g/'XV.Busque Amor novas artes^ novo engenho^(A Plaint of Love).Devise Love novel arts, a new designAnd novel-coy Disdains my life to slay ;My lovely hopes he may not bear away,He may not bear away what ne'er was mine.Look on what pauper Hope I feed and pine!See what security unsure of stay!I fear no Warfare, Change hath no dismayFor ship-wreckt waif that swims the yeasty brine.

SONNETS. 35But albe Disappointment dwell no moreWhere Esperance faileth, there Love hides a care,An 111 that slayeth me withouten show.Days were he pleased in my soul to storeA what I Jcnow not, born I know not where.Comes why I know not, pains I know not how.XVI.Qucm re,Senhora^ daro> e manifesto,(Ut vidi, lit peril ! Written for a friend ?).Who seeth, Ladye!clear and manifest,The lovely being of your eyen-light,Nor loseth seeing-faculty, seen their sight,He nillspay duties owed to your geste.This seemed me honest price for such acquest ;But I, the better to deserve the rightTo love those eyne, paid more, my Life, my Sprite,Hence naught remaineth in my hand for "rest."Thus now my Soul, my Life, mine Esperancethat made me man :I gave you, everythingBut all the interest I alone can show.such blessed, such beloved chanceTo give youall I have and all I can,The more I pay you, still the more I owe.For 'tisD 2

36 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.XVII.Quando da bella vista, e dolce riso ;(He sings her perfections dulce ridentem).While of your laughter sweet and lovely eyesMy sight enjoyeth rarest nutriment,I feel so elevate my thought's IntentThat makes me see on Earth the Paradise.Ibin so parted from what Humans prizeAll other blessings deem I winds that went :Thus to this term arrived (such my sent),He fares not far fro jwhere his Reason flies.I pride me not, Madame ! on praise of you ;For of your graces whoso takes full rangeMust feel that man such knowledgenever learns.You are such strangeness for this world to view,Excellent Dame ! it may not seem us strangeWho made you, made the Skies and made theSternes.XVIII.Doces lenibrancas da passada gloria,(The Displeasures of Memory).Delicious Memories of a Past so glorious,Reft by that robber Fortune's rage-full spleen ;Let me repose one hour in peace serene,You gain fro' me small gains howe'er victorious.Stampt on my Soul hold I the tale notoriousOf this past welfare ;had it never been,Or being had never past! but now my teenIn me leaves nothing save its trace memorious.

SONNETS. 37I live on memory-fare, and die forgotBy her whose memory should have held me fast,Had she remembered state of such ContentO that return to birth had been my lot !Well had I learnt to enjoy my happy Past,If known what illsthe Present can present.XIX.Alma minha genii!, quete p artiste(On the death of his lover: the chef d'reuvre).My gentle Spirit !them who didst departThis life of Miscontent so sudden tane ;Rest there eternal in the heavenly Reign,Live I pent here to play sad mortal part.If in that happy Home, where throned thou art,Consent to memories of the Past they deign.Forget not thou my love, whose ardent strainThou sawst in purest glance that spake my heart.And ifsuch love gain aught of grace fro' thee,If aught avail this woe wherewith I pine,This pining woe that knows no remedy ;Pray Him who shorted those few years of thine,So soon He bear me hence thy sight to seeAs soon He bore thee fro 5my sorrowing eyne.

38 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.XX.Num bosqne, que das Ninfas se haUtava y(Sibella, or Belisa, and Cupid: a scherzo).Deep in a woody, Nymph-Inhabited dellSybil, the fairest Nymph, fared forth one day ;And clomb a tree embrowning solar ray,To pluck the golden bloom of asphodel.Cupid who wont (and thus him aye befell)Noon in its sombre coolth to while away,His bow and bolts suspended to a spray,Before he suffered Sleep his eyne compel.The Nymph, observing such occasion suitFor so great derring-do, no time delayeth jBut, tane the coy Lad's weapons, fares a-flying.She bears his love-shafts in her eyes to shoot :Shun her, ye Shepherds1fly, for all she slayeth,Save only me, who only live by dying.XXI.Os ReinoS) e os Imferios poderosos(To D. Teodosio, Duke of Braganza. Cf. Sonn. 227).Royaumes and Empires highest in might and mainWhich grew to prowest pride of worldly place,Or bloomed and blossomed by Valour's grace,Or by their Barons strong in lettered vein :Greece bare her famed Themistoclean strain ;Rome gat her greatness by the Scipian race ;Twelve Peers the glory-path for France did trace ;Cids with the warlike Laras 'nobled Spain :

SONNETS. 39Unto our Portugal, that now meseemsA breed tmlikest olden breed to bear,Freedom and Fame gave they fro' whom you'resprung.In you we sight (great Scion and latest HeirOJthe State Braganzan I)thousand-fold extremesPeers to your blood, sans peers in years soyoung.XXII.De ros me aparto (O vida /)e em tal mitdanca(First of eighteen parting-sonnets).I leave you (dear my life !)and as I leaveThe very sense of Death-in-Life I feel ;I weet not why we seek contenting Weal,If more must lose who doth the more receive.But this firm 'surance unto you I give,Albeit my tormentry this body kill,Thro' the dark waters of the Lethe-rillSecure in Memory the dead Past shall live.Better sans you mine eyes with woe be wetThan with another Light they shine content :Better forget them you than they forget.Better with this remembrance be they spent,Than by forgetting undeserve to getThe glories won by pains they underwent.

4 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.MyXXIII.Chara minha Eneniiga, em cuja mao(First Sonnet to Dynamene the drowned).fondest-hateful Foe !within whose handPlaced all my joys and joyaunce Aventure ;Failed for thee on Earth a sepulture,That fail me Comfort fro' my bosom bann'd :Ocean for ever ever stole from landAnd won and joyed thy peregrine Formosurc ;But long as Being shall for me endureLive in my spirit shall thy Form be scann'd.And if my rustick verse such verve may vauntThat it may vow thee long historick tale,Of by-gone love so pure, so true to thee ;Thou shalt be ever celebrate in my chaunt :For long as mortal memory shall prevailMy Script shall serve thee for Epitaphy.XXIV.Aquella triste,e leda madrugada,(Written when en route for Africa ?).That dawn of dewy Day, so black, so bright,O'ercharged with yearning pyne and pitiful woeLong as the world an after-grief shall knowI will that Day-dawn aye with Fame be dight.Only she saw when brake her dappled lightIn air, illuming earth with clearest glowThis Will the presence of that Will foregoWhich ne'er had power such parting-tide to sight

she saw the tears in beads distilSONNETS. 41OnlyFrom these and other Eyne, conjoint exprest,And roll uniting in large-streamed rill.Only she heard the words of yearning questWhose niagick influence the fire could chillAnd to the damned Souls deal balmy rest.XXV.Se quando TOS perdi, minha(Love forbids him to forget).If,when I lost you, you mine Esperance !I had conjointly lost all memory-pow'r,Of the sweet Goods that fade and Ills that flow'r,Scant had I grieved for such change of chance.But Love I cherisht in full confidenceWould to me represent, with nicest lore,How oft he saw me 'joy the joyous hourThat such Remembrance work my Life offence.By things that hardly left at most a signFor-that I gave them to forgetfulness,I see my thought with memories overcast.Ah, my hard Planet ! ah the dire distress !What can be greater 111 in evils mineThan the remembrance of such happy Past ?

42 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.XXVI.Em fermosa Letea se co?ifia^(Some hidden application. Ovid, Met. X. 68-71).So did Lethaea for-that fair confide,Where mortal vanity doth show the way,From proud to confident she went astray,And with the Gods of Heaven in beauty vied.Better to hinder such career of pride,(For born are many errors of delay)The Gods resolved a penalty she pay,For her foolhardise all their force defied.But Olenus lost for Lethsea's sake,Whose love forbade him bear wP patient heartOn so much beauty chastisement so dread,Willed of alien sin the pains to take ;Yet Love unwilling Death the twain depart,To a hart] stone the Pair transfigured.XXVII.Males, que contra mim vos conjurastes ;(Written during last days in India? Cf. No. 33).Ills ! that against my faring well conspire ;How long shall 'dure you in your dure intent ;If it endure that 'dure my chastisement,Suffice to you the torments dealt your Ire.But an ye persevere, for ye aspireTo see the high-toned Thoughts of me forspent ;Stronger the Cause that strength to bear them lent,Than you that Being from such cause acquire.

SONNETS. 43And, as your purpose 'tis, when I'm a-mort,To end what Evils from these loves I dree,Bid of so long-drawn pains an end I view.Thus (both contented) each shall hug his sort :You shall win victory by winning me,And I be winner being won by you.XXVIII.Estase a Pnmavera trasladando(Her charms are those of Spring. Written for a friend ?}.Prime all her beauties loveth to transmewIn your delicious glance of modest hest ;Your lovely brow and lips and cheeks she drestWi 7 Lily, Pink, and Rose's mingled hue :In sort, by shift of variegated viewNature in you her might shows manifest ;That Mount and Meadow, Stream and Wood attestThe love, my Ladye, they have vowed to you.If now younill that who hath lover-claimThe fragrant fruitage of this flowerage cull,Soon shall those buds of grace abide forlorn :Because it little booteth, fairest Dame !That Love with Lovelings sow your gardenfullIf your condition breed but briar and thorn.

44 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.XXIX.Sete annos de Pastor Jacob servia(Jacob, Rachel, and Leah :then a favourite theme).Seven years a Shepherd, Jacob did obeyLaban, the lovely sheep-maid Rachel's sire,Him served he not, he served her for hireWith one and only wish to win the May.The days in esperance of a single dayHe passed contentedsonly her to admire,But Laban, cautious of a youth's desire,In lieu of Rachel gave him Leah for pay.When the sad Shepherd saw the snare and sleightThat stole the Shepherd-maiden from his lotAs though deserved nought his long Desert ;To other seven-years' service self he dight,Saying " More had I served and slaved were not:For so long loving Life-tide all too curt."XXX.Esta o lascivO) e doce fassarinho(He compares himself with the murdered bird).Sits the sweet Birdie, ever gladsome-gay,His ruffled plumy robe wi' beaklet preening ;And his soft lay sans measure, full of meaning,Thrilleth in joyaunce from the rustick spray.The cruel Birder, bent upon his prey,With steal thy footsteps comes fere purpose screening;And with sure aim the grided arrow gleening,Speeds him on Stygian Lake to nest for aye.

SONNETS. 45This wise a heart, in freedom wont to wend(Albe for many a day predestinate)Was smit with Death-stroke where it saw nosign:For the Blind Archer waited that at endHe might advantage of my careless state,Deep ambushed within your clearest eyne.XXXI.Pede o desejo, Dama, que vos Teja :(After asking a mis-favour. Cf. Sonn. 10 and 129; Canz. I.Desire, my Ladye ! all to see requireth :'Tis fooled and kens not whither 'twould aspire:This love so fine-drawn runs to thinnest wire,Who sense it never know what it desireth :There is in Nature naught but what suspirethFor a condition permanent-entire ;To win desired things unwills Desire,Lest naught remain whereto his will aspireth.But this my pure Affection suffereth loss :For as the heavy Stone hath aye for art,In Nature's central gravity sell* to grave :This wise my Thoughts and Fancies fro* the partWhich in my human flesh fares earthy-gross,Made me, my Ladye! such a fall to crave.

46 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.XXXII.Porque quereys^ Senhora, que offere$a(Written before the Indian voyage ?).Why, Ladye would 1you see my life resign'dTo bear so weighty Evils you design ?If you be wrath for that I be indignHe's to be born whom digne of you you'll find.Intend, however much for you I've pin'd,I might be digne of prize that made me pine,But Love consents not such low price assignTo thoughts by lofty Lealty refine'd.This wise no equal payment shall atoneFor all I suffered ; yet you o\ve it meWho to bear such despight the power have shown.And if the value all your wooers ownMust equal yours, perforce this doom you'll dree,To wone a-loving Self and Self alone.XXXIII.Se tanta pena tenho mercrida(Continuing No. 32).If I have merited such pain-full plightIn pay of suffering so hard penalties ;Approve, Madame ! on me your cruelties,Here hold you offered a self-doomed sprite ;Whereon experiment (an you deem it right)Disprize, disfavours and asperities ;For fiercer sufferings, in the firmest guise,Fd bear right bravely in this life-long fight

SONNETS. 47But what avails me against your eyes' pretence ?To them all Foemen, will or nill, surrender ;Yet I my heart will plant as shield to sense :For in such asperous Fray with force so slenderTis well that sithence I am sans defenceI be mid couched spears my sole defender.XXXIV.Quando o Sol encitberto vay mostrando(Written at Ceuta ? Petrarch, I, 90).As Sol with veiled brow his beams abasingShows to the world Eve's gleaming gloaming light,Along a shore-land that delights the sightI pace, my dearest foe in fancy tracing :Here I beheld her plaited locks enlacing ;There hand supporting cheek so beauteous-bright ;Here gladly speaking, there all care-bedight ;Now steadfast standing, now a-forwards pacing :Here she was sitting, there she glanced at meRaising those ever fancy-freest eyne ;Here something startled, there again secure :Here sat she saddened, there smiled sheAnd in these weary, wearing Thoughts, in fine,I lose vain Life-time which doth still endure.

48 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.XXXV.Hum mover de ol/wsjbrando e piadoso,(Her portrait.Cf. Sonn. 78 and Ode VI. i~6).A soft and pity-full glancing of those eyesWith naught to pity ;a sweet Smile shame-represtAs though enforced, a douce and gentle gest,Doubting all worldly joys and vanities :A quiet Energy hid in bashful guise.A modest favour and a gravest rest ;A purest Goodness, e'er the manifestIndex where pure and gracious Spirit lies :A veiled Daring ;a retiring air ;A fear withouten fault;a cheere serene ;A long-drawn suffering with obedience fraught:Such were the Beauties as the Heavens fairOf Circe mine, whose magick all veneneHad power to metamorphose all my Thought.XXXVI.Tomou-me vossa msta soberana(He boasts of being captured though fully armed).Conquered and captured me your sovran SightWhere I had weapons handiest to my hand,That all who seek defence may understandWith" those fair eyne foolhardise 'twere to fight.That mote her Victory rise to prower height,She first let Reason arm me with her brand :I thought to save me, but 'twas vainly plann'd,For against Heaven avails not earthly Might.

SONNETS. 49If to your lot, withal, have promisedYour lofty Destinies such victory,Small gift they give you when all's done and said.Then 'spite my standing on well-guarded stead,Yours be the Boast and Brave of conquering me,And mine a greater by you conquered.XXXVILNao f asses ,Caminhante. Qitem me chama ?(To the Memory of D. Joam de Castro ?).Pass me not, Passer-by! "Who names my name?"A novel Memory never heard beforeOf one who changed life, a finite store,For infinite, divine and clearest Fame."Who is 't so gentle praises doth acclaim ?"One who ne'er doubted all his blood to outpour,Following the noble flag he ever bore,Captain of CHRIST he loved with single aim.Most blessed sacrifice, most blessed ending,To God and Man in offering resign'd!I will aloud proclaim a Sort so high.Thou canst tell larger tale to all mankind,Clear sign he ever gave through life a-wendingHe would deserve such holy Death to die.Lyricks

5 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.XXXVIII.Fermosos olhos, que na Made nossa(Written for a friend?).Beautiful Eyen, to our days displayingOf high and heavenly Lore the surest sign,An ye would learn the power wherewith you shine,Look on this creature of your own arrayingIYou'll see how comes, the life o' me waylaying,That Smile which dealeth me this life of mine :You'll see for no more gifts o' Love I pineThe more fleet Time flits by, our hearts dismaying.And if,in fine, you'd see you in this spriteAs in glass brightly-shining, there you'll seeLikewise your Soul angelical-serene.But sore I doubt me 'tis to unsee my sightYou will not, Ladye see !yourself in me.So lively pleasures givetliyou my teen !XXXIX.Ofogo que na branda cera ardia,(To a lady whose face was singed by a taper).The Fire, who burning made soft wax a prey,Sighting the gentle face in Soul I sight,With other firing of Desire was dightTo reach the Lights that conquer lustrous Day.And, as he flamed with a twofold ray,His hot impatience putall shame to flight ;And with exceeding fervency of lightHe flew to kiss you where his image lay.

SONNETS. 51Happy that Fire who so much boldness showsTo quench his brenning and his torments dern,By sight of one to whom Sol terror owes.With love,!my Ladye all the Elements yearnFor you, and even Fire inflames the snowsWhich burn our bosoms and our fancies burn.XL.Alegres campos, verdes arvoredos^^Written on return to Cintra from India? Petrarch, I. Canz. 27).Glad smiling Pastures, gay and greeny Glade,Clear, fresh-cool Waters, with your chrystalline flow(The view repeating in the waves below)Which from the rocky heights the meads invade :Cliffs, stark and barefaced, Mounts o' forest shadeThat such a disconcerted Concert show;Know you withouten sanction of my woeNo more by you mine eyes may glad be made.And sith no more you see me as you saw,No more your growth of greenth delicious cheers,Nor waves that come fast flowing joyous flood.In you 111 sow remembrances that gnaw,Fll water you with lamentable tears,And after-grief shall spring fro' by-gone Good.

52 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.XLI.Quantas Inezes do fuso se esquecia(Daliana, loving Silvio, is loved by Laurenio).Oft as forgot her spindle woe-forloreDaliana (bathed in tears her beauteous breast)So oft by asperous terror was opprestLaurenio. losing hues of health he wore.She, who loved Silvio than herself far more,E'er sought to see him yet e'er failed her quest,How, then, shall heal another heart's UnrestWho can so illy Rest to self restore ?He, clearly trowing the so bitter truth,With sobs exclaimed, (while the treen shadeInclined to hear his pyne and yearn for ruth)How can be Nature so disorderedThat with such different Will the twain indue'thWhom Will of Fortune so conforming made ?XLIL2,zndo, e sutilfrancado, que ficaste(To a lady who gave him a fillet in lieu of hair-lock).Fair-woven Fillet 1 in whose pledge I findPromise of remedy I desire to gain,If sole the seeing thee so mad my brain,What would the tresses erst by thee confme'd ?Those golden-hued locks thou hast entwine'd,That hold the solar splendours in disdain,I weet not was't to make my prayer in vain,Or if to find me them thou didst unbind.

SONNETS. 53Thee, fair-wove Fillet ! I in hand see hentAnd for the solace to rny sorrows owed,Lacking that other I must take this dole :And, if my longings may not win Content,I have to assure her 'tis in Love's own codeA part must take who cannot take the whole.XLIILO Cisne quando sente ser chegada(He sings the Swan-song; for Natercia married?).The Swan, who feeleth that enfated hourNigh draw and show him term of lifeA draw voice more touching, of more harmonicRaiseth awaking lone deserted shore.nigh,Fain he'd enjoy of life-tide something more,And mourneth weeping an unwilled good-bye:In yearning sorrow, for that dight to die,His notes the Journey's mournful close deplore.Thus I,!my Ladye when to me was shownThe tristful dying of my Love-in-grief,Already thinned to the thinmost thread -,With suaver accent, more harmonious tone,Of your disfavours I to sing was lief," Your faith perjurious and my Love done dead"

$4 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.XLIV.Por os raros estremos que mostrou^(In praise of four maids of honour).For rare extremes displayed in days of yore,Pallas for learned, Venus for-that fair,Dian for chaste, Juno for queenly air,Africk, Europa, Asia did adore.He who conjoined by Almighty Pow'rSpirit and Flesh in generous league to pair,This World-machinery, lustrous 'yond Compare,FabrickM with simple Elementals four.But Nature willed greater marvel seeIn you, my Dames ! when joined in every oneWhat she had portioned amid her fours.To you their splendours yielded Sol and Lune :You with live light, and grace and purest blee,Air, Earth, Fire, Water served as servitours.XLV.T'emava Daliana por vingan$a(Continues No. 41).Willed Daliana wed, to avenge the slightOf the hard Shepherd loved in love so true,With neatherd Giles ;and self-avenging rueThat alien error, false and coy despight:The sure discretion and confiding lightWhich on her cheeks the rosy tincture drew,Wan Melancholy changed in every hue ;For asperous Change oft changeth bright for blight.

SONNETS. 55Ijraciousest Floret laid in land so lean ;Sweet fruitage harvested by horny hand !Memories of other love and perjured fayHave turned to horrid hill the grassy green ;While cogging interest, feigning Love's command,Made even Beauty wend on hapless way.XLVI.Grao tempo ha j& que soiibe da Ventura(A Plaint written in India ?).Long Syne now 'tis sin' taught me AventiireThe life my fatal fiat hath forecast ;For such prolonged experience of my PastGave of my Future indice clear and sure :Love fere and cruel ! Fortune aye obscure !Well have you tried me, bound me hard and fast :Lay waste, destroy, allow no weal to last ;Do vengeance on my days that still endure.Love wot from Fortune none to me befellAnd, that I feel the more what failures are,He made my maintenance Dreams impossible.But you, my Ladye since !(you see) my StarNone other wills, deign in ray Soul to dwell,Where Fortune lacketh might to make or mar.

5 6 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.XLVILSe sbmente hora alguma em vbs piedade(Written after parting and en route to India?}.If I some hour some ruth in you could seeVouchsafed for so long torment to me dight,Love sore had suffered I depart the sightOf those loved Eyes, long yearned-for Pyne of me !From you I parted, but my volunty,Which like the natural limns you in my Sprite,Makes me this absence view in lying light,Yet come I soon to prove that truth it be.I must go, Ladye! but in parting shedSad tears shall ever claim revenge in kindFrom eyes whereof you were the daily bread.Thus to my pains I'll give Life tortured ;For here, in fine, my Sovenance shall findMyself in your oblivion sepulchred.XLVIILOh como me se alo??gade anno em ano(One of the last, written at Mozambique?),Ah me ! how longsome lengthens year by yearThis weary way-worn pilgrimage of mine !How shortens, flying to its fatal fine,This my brief human course, this vain career !With days decreasing increast Ills draw near ;I lost what cure I had, last anodyne :If-that experience teacheth to divine,Each greater Hope doth greater snare appear.

SONNETS. 57I run to catch this welfare sans a chance ;Welfare that faileth me in middle way,And thousand falls destroy my confidence.It flies, I tarry ;and in tarrianceWhen raised mine eyes to see if still it stay,Tis lost to vision and to esperance.XLIX.Jd he tempo jct^ que minha confianga(A variant of No. 48; Horace, I. Odes, v.).Tis time, time 'tis that this my confidenceDescend from heights of false opinion ;But Love to Reason-rule will not be won ;I may not, therefore, with allHope dispense :Life, yes for shift to asperous circumstance!Forbiddeth length of life to hearts fordone,In Death hold I my sole salvation ?Yes !but who seeks for Death ne'er finds the chance.Parforce I hope and eke parforce I live.Ah Love's hard Law that never deigns relent,Nor soothes the Spirit which must captive grieve!But if,in fine, parforce to live Fm meant,Wherefore want I the glory fugitiveOf a vain Hope whose pain's my punishment?

5 8 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.L.Amor !Amor, com a esperan$a jet perdida(A variant of the last variant).with Esperance now for aye forlore,I pilgrimaged to Thy sovran Fame ;And for my shipwreck-sign on stormy MainIn lieu of garments Life for offering bore.What more of me wouldst Thou, who evermoreDestroydst the Glory 'twas my boast to gain ?Deem not to conquer me, nor I againIntend to enter by an issueless door.Here seest thou life and'soul and esperance,The sweet dfespoilings of my bygone weal,As long as willed she, whom I adore.On these thou lief mayst wreak thy vengeance,And, if determined more revenge to deal,Suffice thy heart-desire the tears I pour.LI.Apolo,e as nove Musas discantando(Petrarch, I. 12 and 47).'Mid the nine Muses' choir Apollo singingTo his gilt lyre, so influenced my spriteWith descant sweet, harmonical delight,I hent in hand my pen and writ, beginning:"Happy the day, the hour, the moment bringingThose delicate eyne my very me to smite :Happy the feelings that could feel them dightTo die, with love-desires the heart unstringing."

SONNETS. 59This wise I sang when Cupid changed my chanceWhirling the wheel of Esperance, that racedSo legier, well nigh 'twas invisible.For me the blackest night clear Day o'ercast ;And if remained me aught of Esperance,'Twould be of balefuller bane if possible.LILLembrancas saudosas^ se cuidays(Cf. Sonn. 4 and 46).Sad yearning Memories !an yestill be strainingTo end my life-tide placed in such estate,I live not so ensnared by ban and bate,As one not hoping more, far more, of paining.Long time already you my heart are trainingTo wone of whatso welfare desperate :Now I with Fortune have deliberateTo suffer torments of your own ordaining.Patience I'll bind, as thole-pin bindeth oar,To what displeasures Life may lief affy :Let Thought as wills it careFor sith resistance can avail no moreof suffering take.In such a cruel fall fro' height so high.Upon my sufferings Imyfall must break.

6oLYRICKS OF CAMOENS.LIII.Afartavase Nise de Montana,(Of Nise or Ines, the drowned Dame).Departed Nise parted from Montane,And, parting, ever woned within his sprite,For her in Memory limned the Shepherd-wight,The freaks of Fortune easier to sustain.Upon a Fore-land facing Indick mainPropt on his curved crook he bowed his height,And o'er the vasty seas prolonged his sight,Eyeing the wavelets reckless of his pain.Since to such after-longings, pangs so fell,(Quoth he) would leave me she I most adore,I call to witness all the stars and- spheres:But, Waves, if aught of ruth in you may dwellEke bear away the tears these eyelids pourE'en as you bear her that has caused the tears.Quando vefoLIV.que nteu destino ordena,(Following No. 47).Whenas I see my Destiny ordain,By way of proving, I from you depart,Leaving my welfare's better, higher partThat prove the very fault my bitterest bane :The dure displeasure, dooming constant painWhen musing Memory communes with my heart,Hardens my senses with such cunning artThat Absence-dolour grieves with lesser strain.

SONNETS. 6 1But how can hap it that a Change, destroyingAll that I fondest love, so far forboreTo end my days, of parted life bereaving ?I'll bit and bridle this so bitter coying :For parting, Ladye! me had grieved moreHad I in parting grieved with lesser grieving.LV.Despoys de tantos dias mal gastados(Another sigh over the Past, Cf. Sonn. 49, and Petrarch, 1. 48).After so many days spent evilly,After so many a sleepless night spent ill,After so many a weeping tears in rill,Vain sighs so many vainly sighed by me :How did not Disenchantment set you free(Desires that of !)Forgottens, will or nill,You can a cure apply to wounds that kill,Love cure-less made, and Time and Destiny?Now had ye not so long experienceOf Love's unreasons, whom you served amain,In you resistance were a weak pretence.But, as for bane of you you bore Love's bane,Time never cured, nor Absence-term immense,What hope ye (sad Desires !)of Love to gain ?

62 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.LVLNayadeS) vtis que os rios habitays^(A conceit : written in Coimbra ?).Naiads !ye la dyes who in rivers woneAnd pour your treasures o'er the pined-for Plain,Fain shall ye see these eyelids rail and rainWaters that well-nigh equal all your own.Dryads who busk !ye and with shafts are bounTo fell the roe-deer in their flying slain,You shall see other Eyne like triumphs gainO'er hearts of higher value felled and thrown.Quit then your quivers and your waters cold ;And haste ye, lovely Nymphsif so incline'd!To see one pair of Eyes breed many ills.'Here shall ye note how vain the days have roll'd :And yet not vainly note, for you shall findHer eyes your quivers hold, mine eyes yourrills.LVILMudaose os tempos^ mudaose as wntades ;(Written perhaps in India).Times change, change mortal loves and volunties ;Changeth man's fortune, changeth confidence :The world is made of endless Change immense,Ever assuming strange new qualities.Continuous novelties our sight espies,From all we hoped showing difference :Long live our sorrows graved in Memory-sense,Our joy (if joy have been) in yearning dies.

SONNETS. 63Time clothes the country with a greeny coat,That erst lay clothed in snow-sheet hoar and frore ;Time shifts my sugred lay to bitter note.And more than every day hath change in store,Time works another Change of more dismay,For now as wont Time changeth never more.LVIII.Se as penas com que Amor tad mal me trata(Exhorting her "carpere diem ").If pains whereby Love wreaks me such despightPermit me life so long to live by pain,Till seen those starry Eyne in wanness wane,Whose sight doth slay me by their burning light :And if long Time, who putteth all to flight,Wilt the fresh Roses that unpluckt remain,And if those tresses lose their lucent stainFram gold refined to fine silvern white :Then, Ladye eke your !sight shall see me changingThe harrowing memory of your cruelties,When naught availeth you such change of chance.With sighs you'll sight yourself o'er Bygones ranging,What time my power'twill be to exerciseOn your too late regrets my vengeance.

64 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.Who lies i 5LIX.Quern jaz no grao Sepulchro, que descrevc(Dialogue-sonnet on Dom Joam III.).the lordly Tomb that doth inditeSo noble blazon on the doughty shield ?44A Naught3 for thus in fine all flesh must yield:Yet did he all, held all that Mortal might."A King?"He did what Kings to do be dight:He studied Peace to practise, War to wield :But as on Moorman rude he weighed a-field,So on his ashes, Earth ! now lie thou light 1"Is't Alexander"? Fancy no such thing!More to conserve than conquer more he strave."A Hadrian, holding Earth's dominion ?" More he observed laws high Heaven gave."Numa ?" No Numa he : 'tisJohn the King,The Third of Portugal, seconded by none I"LX.Quern pode livre ser, gentil Senhora,(Petrarch, I. 75 and 16).Who mote enjoy his freedom, Ladye fair !Seeing your presence with unprejudiced mind,If aye the Boy that was from babehood blindWone in the Babies which your pupils bear ?There reigns he, rules he, deals he love-doom thereThere lives he venerate of all mankind ;For the love-light, the features finely 'fined,Are imaged idols for Love's worshipper.

SONNETS. 65Who sees the roses bloom on snows pure-whiteSet in the rondured, crispy threads of gold,(If sight may haply through such lightning speer)Sees aureate radiance, rays that pierce with lightThe dubious Spirit through the bosom's fold,E'en as enpierceth Sol the chrystalline sphere.LXI.Como fizeste^ b Portia^ talferida ?("Dialoglsmus " to Portia Bruti).How couldst, O Portia ! deal thee wound so dread ?Was it free-willed or was't innocence ?" 'Twas Love alone who sought experience,How I could suffer Life by Death done dead."And Love invited thine own blood to shed,Death to resist and make a Life-defence ?" ;Tis that my practice make I patienceLest fear of dying do my Death impede."Then wherefore swallow coals of burning loweTo steel self-customedu;? Tis that Love ordainsI die and, dying, pains of dying know."And art thou one that hurt of " steel disdains ?Yea ! for we feel not an accustomed blow;Nor would I Death withouten dying pains."Lyricks

66 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.LXILDo tad divino acento em voz Jmmana,(To Joam Jose Leitam. Cf. Sonn. 134).Of accents human yet in heavenly strainsOf elegant phrase so singular-peregrine,My works (right well I weet) shall ne'er be digne ;For my rude Genius disillusion deigns,But from your choice illustrious Pen e'er drainsLiquor excelling waters Caballine ;And by your aid shall Tage with flowrets fineE'en Mantuan fulness nil with jealous pains.And more, the Maidens of their meed unspareBorn of that lovely dame, Mnemosyne,To you their favours lent in world-known share.My Muse, and yours so famed for high degree,Both in the world themselves may 'title rare,Yours for high Genius, mine for Jealousy.LXIILJDebaxo desta fedra estd metido,(To Dom Fernando de Castro?).Lieth ensepulchred beneath this stone,Resting fro' 'sanguined arms and fierce affrays,The illustrious Capitaine Fame loves to raise,Fernan' de Castro, noble name all-known.This, so much feared by all Orient fone,This, forcing Envy's self to sing his praise.This, who in fine held angry Mavors' rays,To clay converted here shall ever wone.

SONNETS, 67Joy that thou breddest, warrior Lusitania !This Viriatus born in other date,Nor less for ever o'er his loss lament.Here for example take to thee Dardania ;For if one Brave could Roman braves abate,Yet stands not Carthage for this feat content.LXIV.Que ven$ays no Oriente tantos JZeys /(To Viceroy and Poet Dom L. de Athaide)^Than having conquered many an Eastern Roy ;Than having rendered back our Indick reign ;Than darkening ever}* Fame man erst could gainFrom Faithless peoples torn, with sore annoy.Than conquering Death and Death's oblivious Loy ;And conquering all, in fine, that arms had tane ;More 'twas unarmed to conquer homely bane,Chimseras dire, and monster illsdestroy :Then upon conquering fone so fierce in bate,And by your Derring-do so doing your nameWithout a second heard a-world shall be ;That which shall render you more worldly fameIs that you conquer, Sir ? the ! friendly state,Such lack of thanks, such jarring jealousy.F 2

'68

SONNETS. 69If on thy better part of worth I gaze,Seeing how opens Earth a heavenly scene,My genius fails me and my sprite is wrung.But what more hinders yet to sing thy praise,,Is that when seeing thee I lose my tongue,And lose my senses when thou be unseen.LXVILPoys meus olhos nao cansao de cJiorar(Petrarch, "lunga historia").Since never tire mine eyes to weep alwayGriefs never tiring in their trial to tire me ;Since ne'er allayed the fire, wherewith to fire meShe hath the power which I could ne'er allay :Tire not, thou blind-born Love !to lead astrayThither whence never more shall I retire me ;Nor cease the world by hearing to Inspire me,Till my weak accents cease to sing my lay.And if in meads, and dales, and bosky hillsRuth linger haply ; haply Love remainIn birds and beasts ; if sea and stones can feel ;Hear they the long-drawn history of mine Ills,Healed be their pains by witnessing my pain ;For only greater sorrows sorrows heal.

70 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.LXVIILDai-me liuma ley} Senhora^ de quererws,(Written when dismissed the Presence?).Deal me a Law to love you, Dame I !pray you,So under bail Annoy shall ne'er pursue you,For Faith that forces me thus dear to lo'e you,Eke shall enforce me keep the Law to obey you.Forbid me all but let these eyne survey you ;Let me in spirit-contemplation view you ;For an I fail with love-content to endue you,Leastwise may I with hatred ne'er affray you.And if this cruel coy ConditionYou deal, to law of Life refuse consent,Deal it me, Dame ! albeit law of DeathIf 'e'en you deal not this 'twere well you woneUnweeting how my life in grief is spent ;Yet will I live content till latest breath.LXIX.Ferido sem ter cura perecia(On being re-admitted?).A desperate wound was dealt sans hope of healTo dure and doughty Telephus, bravest Brave,By him a Mother washed in Stygian wave,And who was harmless from all stroke of steel.When to Apollo's oracle made appealThe Brave, applying how himself to save,It answered " ; Wound of self-same weapon craveFro 1him who wounded and who cure shall deal."

SONNETS. 71Suchwise my Ladye will mine Aventure!That I, the sorely wounded by your sight,Gain from a second sighting Love's recure.But to my sight so sweet your formosure,Here bide I ever like hydropick wightWhose every draught shall more of drouth assure.LXX.Na metade do Ceo subido ardia,(Echo-Sonnet and first mention of Natercia, i.e. Caterina),Flamed on the midway firmamental hillThe Shepherd genial-clear, what time 'gan strayThe Goats from greeny meads, and sought the wayTo grateful freshness of a cooly rill :Under the treen leaves and shadows chillThe Birds took shelter from the burning ray:And, as they ceased their modulated lay,Naught brake the silence save hoarse chirps of Gryll;When Shepherd Liso, lone on grass-grown lea,Sought where his cruel nymph, Natercia, wonbdWailing with thousands weary sighs his lot " \Whyflee the lover who fares lost for theeTo one who loves thee not?" (This wise hemoaned) ;And Echo answered (moaning), Loves thee not.

72 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.LXXI.fa e roxa,e branca Aurora destoucava(Cf. No. 41).Now red and white Aurore had loosed the snoodThat snared her delicate golden-hued hair,And bloom-enamelled meadows fresh and fairWi' beads of rory Chrystal had bedew'd :When the two beauteous flocks a-pasture yodeCommit to Silvio and Laurente's care ;Swains were the twain and parted was the pairFrom one the never-parting Love-god woo'd.Laurente, " weeping truest tears, 'gan cryO delicatest !Nymph I ne'er could learnHow one who lives in absence nills to die ;For life withouten thee as naught I "spurn !"Love spurns Consenting" (Silvio makes reply)," For Death oifendeth Esperance of return."LXXII.Quando de minhas magoas a comprida(Of Dinamenk, Petrarch, I. 47).When of my yearning grief the long offendingImagination seals with sleep these eyes,She cometh visioned in her Spirit-guise,Who was in life to me life-dream unending.There in a Desert-wold, so far extendingFails him man's eyen-sight and fainting dies,I fly to reach her ;but I feel she fliesCompelled, faster and still farther wending.

SONNETS. 73I cry :" Flee not fro' me, thou "Shade benign, ah IShe (on me fixing modest glance resignedAs one who sayeth, This may never be ! ")Flieth again ;and I once more " cry Dina " IBut ere the mine come I wake and findEven that brief deceit Imay not see.LXXIILSospiros inflamados que cantays(Conclusion to the Amores?).Hot Sighs and Singulfs!that have voice to singThe sorrows making Life a joyous woe ;I fare and leave ye, for I fear ye goForlore in fording of the Lethe-spring.Now ye are writ in Script unperishingWhere all with finger shall your presence show,As model-sorrows ;and e'en I allowThat you be sign-posts to the wandering.In whomso, then, you see large EsperanceOf Love and Luck (which may to some appear,Albe misgifts, the happiest ordinance)Say him, you served the Pair for many a year,Say, that in Fortune all ischange and chance,Say him, that Love is naught but sleight and snare.

74 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.LXXIV.Aquellafera humana que enriqiiece(He calls for more suffering and boasts his pains).That feral Human who her wealth doth oweTo her presumptuous, prldeful surquedry,Who robs my vitals, doomed by Love to dree.An 111 that faileth when 'twould greater grow:If (as itseemeth) Heaven in her would showThe Show most lovely that the World can see ;Why make my Life her direst injury ?Why make my Death her vaunt the prowest prow ?Now boast sublime, in fine, your geste victorious,Ladye ! of taking one so willing tane ;Make my large Story o'er the World memorious :The more I see you deal me pang and painThe more I glory in this gloire so glorious,Seeing you glory for-that I be slain.LXXV.Ditoso seja aquette que sbmente(Another cry of Jealousy. Cf. Canz. X. 7).Happy be mortal man if he lamentOnly disdainful love unkindly coy,For coyness never may his hope destroySooner or later to enjoy Content.Happy be mortal man who Absence-shentCan sense no sorrow save remembered joy ;For albe fear of change may breed AnnoyOne feareth Dolour less when sensed by Sent.

SONNETS. 75Happy, in fine, be any, every plightWhere love-reserve, deception and disdainTo harm and torture lover's heart delight.But hapless he who feels repine and blightOf wayward error pardon ne'er may gain,Nor feels the peccant load oppress his sprite.LXXVI.Ah 1Quern fosse accompanhando juntamente(Written in the Goa prison ? Petrarch, L 80).could I only fare accompaniedBy the true Birdie o'er this greeny plain,Who, since her 7only Mate fro her was tane,Knoweth none other joyous time and tide :And ah ! if flying far fro 7 man I hied,With her for neighbour and companion fain,She mote assist me to deplore my pain,And I assist her sore by sorrow tried.Blest bird ! if Nature ne'er for thee endureThou to thy firstling add a second fereShe wills thy Sorrows solace shall supply :But unblest he by long-willed AventureDenied air enow to breathe a sigh,And all, in fine }that doth the World ensphere.

j6LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.LXXVILO culto divinal se celebrava(Petrarch, I. 3. Comp. Canz. VII. 2).With holy Worship came they to adore,In fane where every creature praised and pray'd,The Almighty Maker, who the thing He madebloodshed to restore.Vouchsafed with holyThere Love, occasion 'biding ever more,Where naught of danger my sure Will affray'd,With rarest Sprite in Angel-form array'dMy light of Reason like a robbei bore.I (who had deemed the place would lend defenceAnd knowing not his customed liberty,None may escape by over-confidence)Yielded me captive, but this day I see,Ladye he willed me yours of Will prepense,!And now repent me I so long was free.LXXVIILLeda serenidade deleytosa^(To Natercia ?).A glad delicious air serene that showsOn Earth-face represented Paradise ;Sweet smile 'mid rubies live and pearls of price,A blush-rose set in gold and virgin snows :Attuned presence gracious for repose,Where Sense and Daring mingle with advice,Teaching how Art conjoining ArtificeCan build up Beauty, e'en as Nature knows :

SONNETS. 77Accents that either Life or Death engender,Rare voice and suave, in fine, rny Ladye!yours ;In merriest season Modesty unfeigned :These be the weapons make my soul surrender.And Love encaptureth me but ; poor his powersTo rob my glory by surrender gained.LXXIX.Bern sey, Amor, que he certo o que receo ;(He encourages Love to deceive him).Well weet I, Love ! the truth I dread and grieve,But thou, to grow thee ever purer pure,Denayst me it in perjured sleight secure,Sworn by thy golden bow and I believe.Upon thy bosom I have laid my neaveNor see my sorrows through a glass obscure :Yet thou'rt so obstinate me to re-assure,I call me liar, owning I deceive.Consent not only I by snares be tane,I thank thy snaring, and to self denyWhate'er I see or feel of ban and bane.O what strong evil to myself take 1 1Who undeceived seeing Truth so plain,Can still be blinded by a blind-eyed Boy!

7 8 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.LXXX.Como quando do Mar tempestuoso(Garcilasso, Sonn. 7)-As when a saved Waif fro' stormy Main,The worn and weary sea-tost sailor-wightSwims from the cruel wreck, in woeful plight,And cannot hear the name of Sea sans pain :He swears, tho' seeing it a calmy plain,It ne'er shall tempt him out of home's delight ;Anon, forgetting horrid bygone fright, jHe turns to tempt it, covetous of gain:Thus I,!my Ladye 'scaping from the stormStirred by your presence, fly in hope to save me,Swearing no similar accident shall find me ;With spirit alway dwelling on your formI turn once more, when greeds of gain embrave me.Where erst Misfortune had so nearly tyned me.LXXXI.Amor he umfogo que arde sent se ver;(Defining Love).Love is a living Lowe that lurking burneth ;'Tis wound that paineth yet ne'er taketh tent ;It is one long contented Discontent ;JTis Dule which driving mad no Dule discerneth :Love's Will for nothing save well-willing yearneth j7Tis faring hermit-like in city pent ;It is a Malcontent when gained Consent ;JTls holding greatest loss most lucre earneth ;

SONNETS.79It is the being tane with gladdest gree ;'Tis Winner serving fain the thing he won ;It is to entreat the slayer loyally.But how can Love, with all his favour shown,Cause in oar mortal hearts conformityWhen Love is love's own foe, most fere of fone ?LXXXILSe pena foramarvos se merece,(Written for a friend ?).If Pain the loving-price of you must pay,Who shall escape it ? Who fare fancy-free ?What Soul, Sense, Reason, is there that shall seeYour sight, nor instant your behests obey ?What greater glory can this life arrayThan Thought beguiling with your phantasy?Not sole each rigour, every tormentryYour sight unpaineth ; nay 1 forgot are they.But an you must destroy them all who lovingBy Love-right only to be yours pretend,You will destroy the world which all is yours.Ladye with me you may 1begin this proving,For shows it clearly, and all thoughts intend,I love you all I ought with all my powers.

SoLYRICKS OF CAMOENS.LXXXIILQue levas,cruel Mortel Hum claro-dia.(On the death of the Infanta D. Maria, A.D. 1578).What takest thou, cruel Death ? "A day all splendid."At what hour diddest take \ ?" 7 'At dawn of day.Dost thou Intend" thy prize ? Intend it ? NayWho !"willed thou take it ? "HE that it intended."Who 'joys her body? "Clay-cold Earth that pennedHow it."quenched was her" light ? Night o'er it lay."What saith our Lusia ?" She must say her say."What say ?" Great Mary my deserts transcended."Slewst them that saw her?" They lay dead before."What now saith Love ? "He durst no word let fall."And who doth silence him? "My will be done."What to the Court was "left ? Love-longings sore."What there is left to see ?" No thing at all."What glory failed it? "Failed this lovely One."LXXXIV.Ondados fios de ouro reluzente,(Memories of an absent Beauty).Ye wavy wirelets shining golden sheen,Now by her lovely hand bound close to head,Then o'er her Roses in profusion spread,You add new graces to the flowery Queen:Eyes ever softly glancing glance serene.With rays divine in burning thousands shed,If hence my Soul and Sense are captive led,Were I but present say what then had been ?

SONNETS.& IGlad honest laughter, that 'raid finest finePearl-rows and coral-branch is born to view jOh, that its honeyed echoes I could hear !If so much beauty seen with Fancy's eyneMake Soul forget herself in gloire so new,What when I see her ? Ah ! that I mote see her !LXXXV.Fayj num fa tempo doce cousa amar(After Natercia's death ? Petrarch, II. 72).To love in passed Time was passing sweetWhile fared I falsed by one Esperance :My heart, high flaming with such furtheranceMelted in Love desire's all-potent heat.Ah debile Esperance, caduque, fain to fleet 1How do, in fine, unwheedle Change and Chance 1For-that the greater Fortune's complaisance,So much the lesser lasteth her deceit.Whoso in prosperous gust his lot espied,So soon espying the same in bitter pain,Hath cause to live as though of grief he died.But whoso trials of this world hath tried,Ne grieves ne troubles him the threatened bane ;For customed Evil is an 111 defied.Lyricks

82 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.LXXXVI.Dos antiques Hustres que deiocarao(Of D. Joam Coutinho).Of olden Worthies who, by deeds of daring,Left names deserving Life o'er Death victorious,For light of Time remained tales memoriousOf feats the highmost excellence declaring.An with their actions one attempt comparingA thousand feats of yours, each so notorious,Your least shall pale their greatest, their most gloriousDone through a many years of life wayfaring.Theirs was true glory: none their boast shall reave :As each forth went Fame's several paths to traceHe won his statue in her hero-temple.You, Portuguezes' and Coutinho's grace,Noblest Dom John! a loftier name shall leaveFor self a Glut of Gloire, for us Example.LXXXVII.Conversacao domestica afey$oa,(Obscure address, to Belisa? Cf. Sonn. 91).Domestick Converse oft shall Love effect,Now formed of cleanest Will from error free,Then of a loving pity-full qualityNor one nor other holding in respect.Then if, peraunter, be your joyaunce checktBy sad Unlove and scanty Loyalty,Forthright condemneth Truth a False to beBlind Love, in fine, who pardoneth all Suspect.

SONNETS. 83Not mere conjecture this I lief assureWhen Thought takes semblance for his evidence,To deck man's writ with delicate garniture:My heave I've placed on my conscience,And tell I naught but Truth the purest pure,Taught by my tutor, Life's experience.LXXXVIILJZsforfo grande igual ao pensamento^(On D. H. de Menezes. Cf. The Lusiads X. 54).Strong Force embodying Thought's ideal strain,Thoughts proved in action and by deed exprest,And ne'er close-locked In the craven breast,To drop, dissolve and die in wind and rain :Soul that ne'er tempted low-toned greed of gain,DIgne for this only of what state Is best,Fere Scourge and sore for ever unreprestPeoples which haunt the Malabarian Plain :Grace with rare Beauty corporal allied,Adorned all with pudick continence ;Certes high heavenly Work angelick-pure ;These seld-seen virtues and a more beside,Worthy Homerick loftiest eloquence,Are laid to He beneath this sepulture.G 2

^84LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.LXXXIX.N& Mundo quis o tempo quese achasse(Written in India? Cf. Sonn. 46 and 48).Time hath so willed in the World we findWelfare, or certainty or chance begot ;And to experiment what bin my lotFortune experiment on me design'd.But that my Destiny impress my mindHow e'en the hope of Weal became me not,Never (so happed) my long-drawn Life-tide wotOne glimpse of things for which I longed and pine'd.I fared changing habits, home, estate,To see if Change would change a Sort so dure :Life to a legier planklet's hand I gave :But e'en as pleased Heaven approve my Fate,I've learnt how all my questing A venture.Hath found that only naught of Luck I have.XC.A perfejfao, a gra/a, o doce geito^(Very obscure : by D. Manuel de Portugal ?).That Grace most perfect shown by soft sweet Geste,That Prime of freshness full, the purest pure,In you e'er blooming, for whom AventiireConjoint with Reason conquered this breast :That chrystalline aspect, chastest, modestest,In self containing all of Formosure ;Those eyes w r hose splendid lights so softly 'lure,Whence Love, respecting none, deals strong behest.

SONNETS.85,An this, in you aye sighted, you would sight,As digne from clearest sight to unconceal,However fancy-free your heart and sprite:You'll see the whole its sight to you revealAmid this where Spirit, you rule by right,That sighting self what feels my Soul you'll feelXCLVds qite de olJws suares, e(Same argument as Sonn. 87).You that with suavest orbs of ray sereneMy love to 'prison justest reason show ;Condemning every other care and woeFor meaningless, for miserablest mean ;If jealous Love's domestick draught veneneYou never tasted ; yet I would you knowHow after loving Love shall greater grow,As of his loving less more cause hath been.Presume not any there be aught defect,Which in the lov&d thing may self present,Can Love's perfections ever imperfect:Nay Faults but double him and more torment,For step by step excuse them souls electAs Love by contraries hath increment.

86 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.XCII.Que poderey do Mundo ja querer^(On the death of his beloved. Cf. Sonn. 19).What expectations from the World have I,Since in the lover I so well did will.Naught save Disfavour saw I, harmful 111And Death, in fine, what now do more than die ?Since Life of living naught can satisfy,Since now I see great Sorrows cannot kill,If aught be left of love-grief sadder stillI shall espy it who can all espy.Death, to my dolour, hath assurance broughtOf what great Woe be mine ;she is now forlornWho erst my soul to feel a fear untaught :In Life, 'twas only mine Unlove to mourn ;In Death, a mighty Dule that haunts my thought.Methinks for this alone my birth was born.PensamentoS)Fanciful Thoughts !XCIILque agora novamente(On entering upon a new love).that now with new intentResuscitate vain Cares whilom lamented ;Say me, ye Thoughts still be you not contented!To keep your Keeper in such discontent ?What Phantasy be this you would present,Hour after hour before mine eyes presented ?Why with vain dreams attempt heart so preventedWhich nor in dreaming e'er Contentment hent ?

SONNETS. 87Thoughts ! now I view you wandering from your ways :Will not your coyness condescend to say me,What cunning purpose strays amid this maze ?Denay me not, an you would fain denay me ;For if in wrath ye rise against my days,I'll lend you aidance, I myself, to slay me.XCIV.Se tomo a minha pena em penitencia(To his lover whom he had offended).If by my paining I do penitence,Fit punishment for thoughts of kind unkind,My woe I soften not, two woes I find ;Yet this (and more) is preached by Patience ;And if my deadman's pallid apparence,If Sighs and Singulfs scattered vain a-wind,Move you not, Ladye! to more ruth inclined,Be all mine evils on your conscience.But an for any asperous chance and changeLove will all fancy-freest Wills chastise,(As in this Evil dooming me I see)And if (as likely seems) you 'scape revenge,Compulsion 'tis (so Love compels his prize)I for your sin must pay sin-penalty.

8& LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.Aqitellaxcv.que de fura castidade,(A classical conceit).She, who by purest Chastity's decree,Wreaked on herself a cruel vengeance,For change so sudden, for so brief a chance,That srnlrcht her Honour's highest-born degree ;Conquered her beauty was right honestly;Conquered she, in fine, life's esperance,That live immortal so fair sovenance,Such love, such firmest will, such verity.Herself, mankind, and all the world forgot,She smote with dagger dure her downy breast,In blood the Tyrant's felon violence bathing.O marvellous Daring ! passing strange the Geste !That giving human clay to Death's short scathing,Large Life of Memory she should make her lot !XCVLOs vestidos(Classical :Elisa rebolvia,another conceit).Oft-times Elisa the dear weed survey'd-$neas left her f6r a pledge memorious ;The sweet despoilings of a Bygone glorious ;Sweet while her Fortune but assenting aid :Amid them sighted she the fine-wrought Blade,Fit instrument, in fine, for feat notorious ;And, as a spirit o'er her clay victorious,So in sad solitary speech she said :

SONNETS. 89" Thou new-entempered Blade ! if here remainingOnly to execute his fraud ful will(Who did bequeath thee) on my life forlore ;Know that with me thy fraud is vainest feigning ;For to relieve my life of so much 111,The pangs of parting were enough and more.XCVILOh quam caro me custa o intenderte,(Cf. Sonn. 91).Ah me !how dearly costeth it to trow thee,Molesting Love when but thy grace to !gain,Fro' Dule thou leadst me Dule-ward to such painWhere hate and wrath to growth still greater grow thee.I reckt with knowledge of each phase to know thee,Experience failed me not, nor artful vein ;But now in spirit see I grow amainThe cause that whilom caused me to forego thee.Thou wast in bosom mine so secret decktE'en I 3who deckt thee, least of all could seeHow this concealment did my will subjectNow art thou self-discovered ;and so it beThat thy discovery and my own defectThis makes me shameful, that injurieth me.

90 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.XCVIII.Se despoys de esperan$a tad perdida,(Written in India?).An after losing Hope so long-lamented,Love for some unknown purpose lend assentThat still some hour I see of short ContentAmid the many this long life tormented ;For soul so feeble grown, by falling tainted(When Fate would raise me to my topmost bent)I hold ithopeless Fortune e'er consentIn aught of joyaunce now too late consented.For Love not only ne'er my lot hath madeOne hour of life-time spent in joyous gree,Amid the many to my life denay'd ;Nay more, such pain he doth consent I dree,With my Contentment he fro' me waylaidThe taste at some one hour Content to see.XCIX.O rayo cristalino se estendia(Follows Sonn. 53. Cf. Virgil, Eel. 8).Dispread its sheeny rays in chrystalline weftAurora's marquetry o'er Earth array'd,What season Nise, delicate shepherd-maid,The home, where left she life, for ever left.Of eyne, that solar radiance had reft,The light upraising, light with tears bewray'd ;By self,by Fortune and by Time betray'd,Thus cried she, while to Heaven her eyne she heft :

SONNETS. 91Be born, thou Sol serene, pure-bright of blee ;Resplend, thou purple, virgin-white Aurore,Bringing to saddened Souls new jubilee :For mine, I would thou know, that nevermoreIn Life contented she thy Sheen shall seeNor other Shepherd-maid so woe-forlore.C.No Mundo poucos annos^ e cansados,(Epitaph for Pero Moniz? Cf. Garcil., Sonn. 16).Few weary Winters in this worldly PaleI past, the sport of misery vile and dure ;So soon my daylight set in night obscureOf my five lustres saw I not full tale :O'er lands I marched and o'er seas made sail,Seekinglife's evils or to kill or cure :But what, in fine, begrudgeth AventureNo travails gain us, ban or bane or bale.Portugal mothered me :green AlemquerWas my dear homestead ;but that air polluteWhich ever breathed in this clay-vase of me,Made me the fishes' food in thee, thou bruteSea !lashing Habash, greedy coast and fere,And ah ! so distant fro j my dear countre !

92 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.CLVos que escuitays em Rimas derramado(Proem to Second Century of "Amores": Petrarch, I.i).All ye who listen, while my Rhymes proclaimThe sounds of sighing erst my spirit moved,When through my early youth-tide years I roved,In part another and in part the same :Know that now only for my Songs I claim(What time sang I as Hope or Fear approvedIn her whose wrongI felt, her I so loved)Pity not pardon in my care and grame.Sith well I weet so strong a sentimentBut made me a by-word in the mouths of men,(Which m my self-communion shame I deem)Serve as clear warning this my chastisement,That all the World may ken, and clearly ken,What pleaseth mundane Life is briefest Dream.GILDe Amor escrevo^ de Amor trato^ e vivo ;(By Luis Alvarez Pereira, author of trie ce Elegiada " ?).Of Love I write, of Love I treat and live ;Love bare my loving which no loving bare ;Uncares for everything in life my Care,Save for what Love's captivity can give.Love's gift, whose flight fro' high to higher shall strive,Basing his glory in that dares he dare jAnd be depured his dross in rarer air,Lit by resplendent radiance fugitive.

SONNETS. 93But ay! that so much Love gain only Grief,More constant Grief as Love is more constantholden,For each one only his own triumph wills.In fine, naught boots me ;for an Hope be liefSomewhile a tristful lover to embolden.When near she quickens, when afar she kills.cm.Se da celebre Laura afermosura(Ode VI. lo-ii).An far-famed Laura, beauty's cynosure,A Swan of Numbers in his pride extoll'd,Thy bard in hand angelick pen must hold,Since Heaven hath formed thy substance purest pure ;And if thy Beauty lower-toned Lays allure,His praise (Natercia !)were but vainly bold :Whilom to see them Liso's lot was told,But to describe them fails him Aventure.Not Earth but certes Heaven bare thy birthDescending here the World with gloire be fraught ;Who more denies it more his error's worth :And thou, I fancy, Earth from Heaven hast soughtTo amend the vicious ways contained in Earth,With powers divine by thee from Heaven brought

94 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.CIV.JSsses cabellos louros^ e escolhidos^(Another Plaint : written for a friend ?),These fair-faxt Tresses of the choicest shade,Which rob his glories from the golden Sun :This airy air immense, which hath undoneMy sbipwreckt Senses ever more bewray'd :Those reaving Eyne with sleight of glance array'd,Causing my life and death to seem as one,This grace divine of tongue, whose every toneFeigneth my deepest thoughts discredited :This golden Mean, allied to compast Bearing,Doubling of body-gifts the potency ;Deess o'er lowly Earth divinely faring !Now show they pity, shun they cruelty,For they be snares Love knits for better snaring,In me being sufferance, in you tyranny.CV.Quern pudera julgar de vbs^Senkora,(Complaining of infidelity? Cf. No. 14).Whose judgment, Ladye! could of you discoureThat Faith so faithful mote to loss pursue you ?If I win hatred who for love-boon sue youI can't unlove you for a single hour.Would you leave one who dares to love, to adore,For one that haply values not to view you ?But I am one who ne'er had worth to woo you,And now I know mine ignorance and deplore.

SONNETS. 95What wills your Will I ne'er could ascertain,Nor of my Will the truth to you could prove,However seemed such Truth the plainest plain.This, while I see you, shall prove perfect tove ;And, if my loving words persuade in vain,I love you more for-that you more unlove.CVI.^Senhora^ presume de louvarvos(Of some love-pledge. Cf. Sonn. 301)."Whoso, my Ladye shall presume to !praise youWith speech that shorteth of a speech divine,Of so much greater penalty shall be digne,As grow you greater each time each surveys you.Aspire no power of Poet-lay to raise you,Howe'er seld-found it be or peregrine,Such be your charms that Heaven, in fancy mine,Compare with any save yourself denays you.Happy this my-your Soul you deign to deemFit to empower with prize of such a cost,As this you deigned give in gift supreme :This before Life shall take precedence-post ;Since you have made me Life the less esteem,When this for that I'd see right gladly lost

9 6 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.CVILMoradoras gentis, e delicadas,(Garcilasso, Sonn. n).Delicate gentle Mays! who wone where flowsGlassy and golden Tagtis, ye who bideWithin the grottos where you love to hide,And 'joy your slumbers sunk in sweet repose.Now fire your bosom Amor's burning throesWithin the chrystal Palaces of the tide :Then allabsorbed you seem in tasks appliedTo purfled webs where gold refined glows.Temper the radiance pure of each fair head,The light all-lovely of your eyrie subdueing,That floods of sorrow unrestrained they shed.So shall you hear with owner grief a-rueing,Against dour Fortune plaints by me dispread,Who plumed with Love-pains fares my steps pursueing.CVIILBrandas aguas do Tejo^ que passando("Written before going to India? Cf. Sonn. 158).Soft Tejo waters !passing through this PlainWith irrigated verdure deckt and dight,Plants, herbs and flowers, and kine your wavesdelight,And flow engladdening Nymph and Shepherd-swain:know not whenI know not (ah sweet waters !)I shall return to see you for such ;blight,Seen how I leave yo.i, deal ye to my sprite,I go and going despair to come again.

SONNETS.97,Predestination doomed unrelentingMy choicest Blessing turn to weightiest III,So hard a Parting all mine Ills to double.For you aye yearning and my lot lamenting,With sighs of sorrow other airs I'llAnd other waters with myfill,tears I'll trouble*.CIX.JVbzws casos de Amor, novos(Experlentia docet. Cf. Sonn. 93 and 98}..New change and chance of Love, new snare and sleightEnwrapt in glozing flatteries well-known ;False promises of weals that hidden wone,Whose lurking evils open damage dight !How take ye not to undeceive your sight,So many a wasted tear so many a moan,For ne one life ne thousand lives should ownSo many a day, so many a year of night ?Now a new mister heart exchange I must,And other eyne unwont to be your prey,Again to trust you as I once could trust.Ye Snares ! with me ensnared wend your way,And some day think ye, an to think ye lust,What of the sorely knived men wont to say.Lyricks

98 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.ex.Onde porey meus olhos que nao veja(Cf. Sonn. 48 and Canz. 9).Where shall I bend these eyne that be unseenThe cause which bare what Ills my heart torment ?What part shall fare I with a Thought intentOn Rest imparted to my restless teen ?How snared he who longs (now well I ween)In Amor's vanities for true ContentWhen in his gusts which are but windy ventWeal ever fails and 111 grows keener keen.And more, on Disillusion made full clear,This subjugated Soul so quells my ThoughtThat on Illusion hangeth my Desire ;And yede I day by day, and year by year,Chasing a What-is-it, chasing a NaughtWhich seemeth lesser as I draw me nigher.CXI.Ja do Mondego as aguas aparecem(He takes leave of the Coirabran. Cf. Sonn. 133).Now of Mondego-stream the waters showUnto mine eyes, not mine but alien eyes,Which, full of waters welling otherwise,Seeing the pleasant vision fuller grow.Meseems the Waters eke enforced flow,E'en as detained by rnazy turns and ties.Woe's me ! How many a mode, how many a guiseHath after-pyne to breed me sadder Woe !

SONNETS. 99A life so many Ills have plunderedLove in such terms hath placed, by doubt Fm tostAn to this Journey's end it shall be sped.Nay more, Life holdeth self as wholly lost,Seeing by Soul 'tis unaccompanied ;That lingers still when Life gave up the ghostCXII.Que doudo pensamento he o quf sigo ?(By the Conde de Vimioso ? Cf. Sonn. 92).What be this madding Thought I nill forego ?Why fare I following vain-visioned end ?Ah woe is me ! who cannot self intend ;Nor what I say nor what unsay can know.I war with one who corneth peace to show ;'Gainst one who wars me self I can't defend :Fro' so false esperance what can I pretend ?Who makes me friendly with the woes I owe ?Why, an free-willed born, myself enslave ?And if I will it,wherefore will it not ?How with unsnaring ana I snared so lief?Why hope, if hopeless erst, for hopeful lot ?And why not live if still some Hope I have ?And if I live why gird at deadly grief?H 2

100 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.CXIII.Humfirme cora$ao posto em ventura,(To Violante? Cf. No. 119).A constant heart by hazard made unsure ;An honest longing that would fain rejectYour crude conditions, which in naught respectMy love so purely pure, my faith so pure :A viewing you to ruth's kind use and ureEternal enemy, garreth me suspectSome fere Hyrcanian did your lips allecr,Or you were born the birth of rock-womb dure.I fare me seeking Cause, that shall explainSo strange a Cruelty, yet the more I do.The more I labour, more it treats me ill.Hence comes it no one but condemns us twain ;You who would kill the love which loves you soMe for so loving one whose cruelties kill.CXIV.Ar^ que de meus susfiros vejo chtyo;(How he loves against Nature's order),Air ! I see charged with my heavy sighs ;Earth ! tired e j en now my torment to maintain ;Water ! which thousands of my tears sustain ;Fire ! I make fiercer in my breast arise :At peace in me you meet ;thus I devise,Though ye so fair intent may never deign ;For where in dolours there is dearth of pain,Life is sustained by your energies.

Ay hostile Fortune !ay vindicativeAmor !Yet may not move you by mySONNETS. 10 1to what discourse for you I fare,If ye would kill me wherefore do I live 1How am I living,I that have contrayrsorrow's worth !Fire, Fortune, Amor, Water, Air and Earth ?cxv.Ja daro vejo beni^ ja,beni conheco(Another Plaint),Now ken I clearly, clearly I believeHow ever add I caring to my Care,That I on water build and write on air,And seely Cosset from the Wolf J'd reave ;That I'm Arachne who with Pallas weave ;That to the Tyger wail I my despair ;That in small pipkin squeeze the Seas I dare,When I (unworthy) would this Heaven achieve.Peace I would conquerJmid a hubble infernal ;By night Sol's aureate beams I seek to see ;And tepid Prime-tide in the Cold hybernal:I seek in bright Olympus blackest blee ;And wisht-for welfare in mine Ills eternalWhen I seek love-grace of your cruelty.

102 LYTLICKS OF CAMOENS.CXVI.De eft)donde somente o imaginarvos(By some attributed to F. R. L. Surrupita).Hence (where to image you and only youThis rigorous Absence doth my thought constrain)Borne upon Love-wings plied with daring strain,Seeks you my Soul that ill her Ills doth rue :And feared she not to fire you with the lowe,The burning flames your cause doth aye maintain.There would she wone and, to your presence lane,How to content you from yourself would know.But as her Absence is parforce designed,You as her Ladye hence she acknowledged,Over your idoFd feet a slave inclined ;And sith you see her purely proffered faith,Thence turn those glances on her cares unkind,More you must give her than she meriteth.CXVII.Nad ha louwr qitearrive a menor farte(Cf. Sonn. 17, 103, and 106).There be no praises reach the minim partOf what, fair Ladye in your form we view ! ;You are your praises who adoreth you:To this (naught else) reduceth wits and art.What gifts to many Nature would repartOf fair and fetis, so in you congrueSuch wise conjoined,it were due and trueTo say the Members they and you the Heart :

SONNETS.Then 'tis no fault o' mine if, daring praise you,I see all praises impotently end,Since Heaven o'er earthly things sohigh would raiseyou :Yea, be the fault your charms that so resplend ;And I their fault forgive, and give to appraise youSo lofty praises every praise transcend.CXVIII.JVatJ yds ao Monte Nise, com feu gado,(From the Spanish. Cf. Sonn. No. 120).Lead not thy lambkins, Nisfe, to yon crestWhere I saw Cupid in thy search persever,For thee alone all comers asking everRather with angry mien than placid geste.Abroad he bruits, in fine, thou stolst his bestOf bolts and arrows stored in his quiver ;And sware so ardent dart he would deliverThat shall pass through and through that delicatebreast.Fly far from seeing such misaventftre,For an thou hold he have for thee a spite,Haply he reach thee with his hand-grasp dure.But ay! how vainly counsels thee my fright,If to thine ever peerless formosureHis mightiest dart surrender all itsmight I

304 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.CXIX.A Viokta maes bella que amanhece(To Violante. Cf. Sonn. 13).The daintiest Violet which a-morning blownAmells the valley dight in garb of green,With her pale lustre and her modest mien,Thee, Violante, Beauty's Queen must own :Dost ask me why ? Because in thee aloneHer name and purer tints and hues are seen ;And she must study from thy brow what meanThe highest powers by bloom of beauty shown.O lustrous floret ! OSol fairest fair 1Sole robber of my senses pray thee I do1Allow not Love of loving be so spare.O thou transpiercing arrow of Cupido !What wouldst thou ? In this valley for repayrePrithee I play ./Eneas to this Dido.cxx.T'ornay essa brancura d alva afu$ena,(From the Spanish ?).Give back this blanchness to the Lily's skin,To purpling Rose these blushes purely bright:Give back to Sol the flame of living lightShown by this face that shows the robber's sin.Give back to dulcet-voiced MelusineThe voice whose cadence is a mere delight:Give back the Graces' grace who all uniteTo 'plain you made their lustre less serene.

SONNETS. 105Give back to lovely Venus loveliness ;Give back Minerva's genius, lore and art,And chaste cold Dian's chastest purest blee :Come, doff these borrowed plumes, this goodlinesOf gifts,and you shall \vone in every partSole with yourself, which is sole Cruelty.CXXI.De mil susj>eitas vans se me levantao(By Diogo Bernardes? Cf. Sonn. 70).Fro' vain suspicions in a thousand waysRise disappointments, griefs veridical.Ah ! that the charm of Love be magick allThat with I wot-not-what my soul waylays !As Sirens, softly sing their sugred lays,Sea-faring men with fatal snare to thrall ;So lure me on my songs phantasticalAnd eft with thousand horrid thoughts amaze.When fain I fancy port or land to take,Sudden so stormy rage of wind ariseth,At once for Life I fear and disconfide.Yet on myself the fiercest war I make,Since, known what risks for lovers Love deviseth,Self-trusting stillI trust to Love's own tide.

106 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.CXXILMil veze$ detennino nao vos ver(Imitated from his "Ennius," Bernardim Ribeiro).I swear a thousand times to unsee your sight,And see if Absence soothe a heart distraught ;And if I think of pain to self so wrought,Think what 'twould be an 'twere to me bedight.Imports me little now more suffering plight,Since Love to such a point my case hath brought ;Yet what most grieves me is the grievous thought111 could I live without this undelight.Thus seek I nowise Cure to heal my Care,For were I seeking Cure, right well I wotIn this same point my loss would prove complete.Would you so rigorous life, in fine, I bear ?Only your love-boon can convene my lot.Is ityour will that so it be ? So be it !CXXIII.A chaga que, Senhora, mefisestes,(To a nun of the order Das Chagas? Cf. Sonn. 77).The wound, Senhora !you have doomed me dreeWas not a hurt to heal in single day ;Nay, it increaseth in so crescive way,That proves intention in your cruelty.Causing such grief were you of grieving free ?But to your grieving grief I would denay,Sith to my sight it would some hope conveyOf what you willed ne'er be seen in me.

SONNETS. 107Those Eyne, whose puissance me of me bereft,Caused this evil e'er I undergo ;Yet fare you feigning you ne'er caused the theft :But I'llrevenge myself! And when d' you know?Whenas I see you 'plaining that you leftMy soul go burning in their living lowe.CXXIV.Se com desfrezos, Ninfa, te parece(He vaunts nis constancy).An thy despisal,!Nymph thou haply trowCan ever deviate from its course of CareA Heart so constant, which hath vowed a vowIn bearing torment highest boast to bear :Doff thy persistency, and learn to knowIlly thou knowest Love grown wise and ware ;For knowst and kennest not thy Wrongs make growMy growth of Ills as more unloved I fare.The coy Unlove thou doomest me essay,Convert to pity, an be not thy willWith thine Unwill my love still higher stye.Ne'er hope to conquer me by cruellest 111 :Well canst thou slay me and well dost thou slay.But my Presumption'slife shall never die.

loSSenhora mine !LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.cxxv.Senhora minha^ se eu de vos ausente(Garcilasso, No. 9 a mere :translation).driven self fro' you to absentIf I could parry thrust of pain so rare,Suspect I 'twould offend the love I bear,Forgetting welfare by your presence lent :Further, now feel I other accident,And 'tis that seeing if I of life despair,I lose the boast and hope of seeing my Fake,With only difference in my detriment :And in such difference all my senses bidingFight one another with so fierce outrance,I judge mine Ills inhuman, unhumane.I see division sense from sense dividing ;And if concording any day, perchance,3Tis but in plotting for my better bane.CXXVLJSfo regafo da May Amor estava(On a picture of Venus and Child).Lapt by his Mother little Love was lying,So lovely sleeping that the sight could wrestFreedom from every fancy-freest breast,And his own Mother near-hand do to dying.She sat with curious eye his form espyingWhich hath so direly all the world opprest ;When soft he murmured in a dream's unrest" She caused all Evils all are now abying."

SONNETS. 109Oj graduate in the school of Love,Who best to know the two had aventiireThus did the Shepherds' doubt and dread remove :" An hurt and harm my heart withouten cureThe Son, whose red-hot shafts my bosom rove,The Mother's beauty harmeth more forsure."CXXVII.Esse terresteCdos com sens vapores(Much admired. Cf. " The Lusiads," X. 6).This earthly Chaos, with itsvaporous layer,May ne'er condense to base contagious cloud,But that clear Sol shall rend the racking shroudWith his own lucent radiance rarely fair :This coy ingratitude, this rigorous air,Are the foul ugly mists that fronting crowd,Till Heaven convert to weeping long and loudIts vain fond esperance and its favours spare.Earth may to Heaven her rondure interpose ;Eclipse for hours the sight of Sol may hide ;But ne'er endureth light convert to shade :Haply your warfare shall overcome its foes ;But maugre every cloud, clear, purifiedShall shine your Sun byall mankind obey'd.

110 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.CXXVIII.Huma admiravel erva se conhece,(He is like a certain Indian herb).In Hind an admirable herb is known,That fares from hour to hour the sun enfacingWhen forth he comes from Euphrat-bank upracing,And when he's zenith'd then it blooms full-blown.But, as his charet welks a-sea to wone,Then Flora forfeits charms the most engracing,For wanness wilts her pride, all hues effacing:So loss of sunlight gars her woe-begone.My Sun whene'er you gladden my-your !sprite,Showing the favour very life bestows.You bring luxuriant bloom my Soul contenting :But soon unseeing you and whelmed in woes,She wilts and withers with her fierce tormentingNor is there any bears your absence-blight.CXXIX.Crecey^ desejo men, poys que a Ventura(His loving hopes of a happy end. Cf. Sonn. 31).Grow ye my Longings sithence Aventure!You in her arms vouchsafed to raise and rear ;For the fair Cause that such a birth could bearThe happiest ending doth for you ensure.If bold aspirings to such height allure,Fear not so near-hand unto Sol to fare ;Likest the Royal Erne's be now your care,Who proves him purer more he doth endure.

SONNETS.IllTake heart, my heart the very Thought has lentIA power to gar thee grow more glorious-great,Without regarding aught thy meritment.Thou must grow stronger stillby force innate ;For an of bravery born was thy Intent,Now doth itsDaring make it fortunate.cxxx.He o gozado bem em agua escrito ;(Metaphysico-amorous. Cf. Sonn. 31 and 229).Weal, once enjoyed,is on water writ ;Love wones in longing, dies he in the effect :Only can Longing longed-for Gifts perfect,Sith it has something of the Infinite.To gift with Goods prescribed the immortal SpriteIn purest-perfect Love, were mere defect :By mode superior, failures ne'er affect,You I except from limits here indite.By force of Esperance evermore unknown,By faith of man's desire and man's despair,More of desire you'll win when you are won.You can't be loved for Esperance bald and bare :Loved you shall be when seen, believed when shown ;But not sans injury dare we try Compare.

112 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.CXXXI.De quantos gracas tinha a Natureza.(To an Angelica ? Cf. Sonn. 137).Nature of all her graces infiniteFormed a Treasury filled with rarest show jAnd with her Rubins, Roses, Gold and Snow,Framed that form sublime, Angelick-bright.Rubins in lips she set, on the pure lightOf face I die for, garred she Roses grow ;Taught the blonde metal in the locks to flow,And snowed the bosom that enfires my sprite.But in those eyne her Power showed best display ;She made of them a Sun that doth depureRadiance to clearer than the clearest day.For brief, my La dye, in your omatureShe lavisht purity (far as Nature may)Of Rubins, Roses, Snow, bright Gold, Light pure.CXXXILJWunca em Amor damnou o atrevimento ;(Atidaces Fortuna juvat; Be Bold : De 1'audace, &c.).Love ne'er condemned hearts that boldly dare ;Fortune aye favoured man's audacity ;For ever weighteth shrinking -Co wardry,Like stone, man's Thought which should be free as air.Who to sublimest Firmament would fareHis guide and Lode-star there alone shall see;For Weal enhearsed in man's phantasyIs but illusion fit for breeze to bear.

SONNETS. 113We fain must open paths for Aventiire :None save by proper self to Fortune rose ;And Fate doth only first beginnings breed.To dare is Valour, not fool's use and ure.chance shall loseThe heart of craven all itsIf, seeing you, it may not Fear unheed.CXXXIII.Doces, e claras aguas do Mondego,(Adieu to Coimbra. Cf. Sonn. 212 :Elegy I.).Sweet lucent waters of Mondego-stream,Of my Remembrance restful jomssance,Where far-fet, lingering, traitorous EsperanceLong whiles misled me in a blinding Dream :Fro J you I part, yea, still I'll ne'er misdeemThat long-drawn Memories which your charmsenhanceForbid me changing and, in every chance,E'en as I farther speed I nearer seem.Well may my Fortunes hale this instrumentOf Soul o'er new strange regions wide and side,Offered to winds and watery element :But hence my Spirit, by you 'companied,Borne on the nimble wings that Reverie lentFlies home and bathes her, Waters !in your tide.Lyricks

114 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.CXXXIV.Senhor Joad o wteu "baxo estadoLopez>Sir John Lopez !(About some light o' love. Cf. Sonn. 62).yestreen my low estateI saw upraised to rank so excellent,E'en you, byall men envied, would consent,For my Fate only to exchange your Fate.I saw the geste so suave, so delicate,That dealt you erst Content and Discontent,I heard the gentle voice to winds outsent,Serening air and soothing bane and bate.I saw her saying as much in words as fewAs none in many but myself I findDying but to hear those honeyed accents flow.Ah ! woe worth Fortune and the Boy born blind,Him, for obliging hearts such Ills to rue ;Her, who unequal lots doth still bestow.CXXXV.A Morte que da mda o no desata(Cupio dissolvi, &c.).Death, who our life-knot loveth to unknit,The knots Love knitted would asunder shearWith Absence, sword-blade keen o'erhanging near.And Time abetting who doth all unfit :Two foes that each would slay his opposite,Death against Love conjoins in union fere;This, Reason warring Fortune's will austere ;That, thankless Fortune Reason fain to outwit.

SONNETS.. 115,But prove his potent, high, imperial PowerDeath, when fro'body he departs the sprite,Love in one body twinned souls shall mate ;That bear the Palm-wreath with triumphant mightFro' Mors strong Amor,?spite of Absence-stowre,And Power of Time, of Reason and of Fate.CXXXVLe^cnjo porno bdlo^ e(To a Rose-apple tree under which sat his lover).Tree !on whose gracious Porne we see the traceOf blood and milk by Nature's art depinct ;Upon whose cheek the rosy snowy tinctRivals the radiance of the virginal face.Ne'er with the wuthering winds, whose raging raceUproots the tree-bole, may thy lot be linkt ;Nor airy malice view in thee extinctThe varied colours now thy fruitage grace ;And eke thou showerest suave and suitable shadeOn my Contentment, while thy perfumed scentFlavours the glory that be-favours me ;And if my merit fail thy meritmentSinging thy praises, leastways be thou made'Gainst days of sorrow one sweet Memory.I 2

II 6LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.CXXXVII.O filho de Latona esdarecido,(Petrarch, Triumph of Love, end of Chap. I.).Latona's son, by clearest light belit,Who gladdeth mortals with his genial ray,Prevailed the Worm Pythonickal to slayWhose bite slew thousands ere the biter bit.He smote with bow and eke with bow was smit,Whose golden arrows clove their glowing way,Where meads Thessalian softly smiling lay,And the Peneian Nymph was she that hit.Nothing availed him to cure his pain.Wisdom, respect, ne diligent watch and ward,For all his being celestial, sovereign :If then a god unsaw the snaring baneOf one so humble-mean in his regard,What hope from Maid of more than mortal main ?CXXXVIILPresenfa bella^ Angelica figur a^(To an Angelica? Cf. Sonn. 131).Beautiful presence, form of Angel-grace,Where Heaven's choicest Heaven made our own ;Glad geste in garden where the Rose issown,'Mid Roses smiling with a rosier face.Eyne in whose depths such minglement we traceOf chrystal marquetry'd with onyx-stone,For orbs of delicate green have ever shownNot greenth of Hope but Envy obscure base.

SONNETS. 1 1 7,Grace, Softness, Prudence, giftles e'er increasingThe natural Beauties with an honest Scorn,(Whereby the scorned Charms more honour win)Like prisons hold a heart, which prisoner borne,Singeth to clanking chains its pains so pleasing,As sings the Siren o'er the stormy din.CXXXIX.Par cima destas aguas e forte', firme,(Written en route to Goa? Cf. Sonn. 24 and 35).Wi 3 firm and forceful heart ferforth I'll hieOver these waves where'er Fate ordered,Since o'er the briny floods I saw beshedBy those clear eyne, I found the force to fly.The parting-season now had passed by ;Now 'spite a thousand stumbling blocks I sped,Where all Love's torrent-streams were traversedThat would to parting steps a pass deny.I passed the Passes with that pushing pride,Wherewith a glorious Death and certain FateThe conquered mortal unto Wanhope guide.In what new figure, in what form untriedShall come to daunt and frighten Death irateOne at Death's feet surrendered and tied?

Il8LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.CXL.Tal mostra de si d& vossa figura(To an Isabel ?Written for a friend?).So doth your semblance show to 'raptured viewerSibela !globed Earth's resplendent light,That forceful Nature and creative mightGlow with your purer presence kindlier pure.What man hath seen sure conquest so secure,So singular enamel beauteous-bright,Who shall not suffer ills of iller plight,If he attempt resist such lovely lure ?I, then, to excuse and 'scape disdain so coy,Before my Thought made Reason bow and bend,And saw my Senses soon his captives tane.But an my Daring you perchance offend,A novel vengeance you may* yet enjoyOn the life remnants that to me remain.CXLI.JSTa dese sferacao ja repousava(He consoles himself with the pleasures of Despair).In Desperationygan repose espyMy bosom's Lord, so long, so deeply pained ;And (concert with eternal loss attained)I dreaded nothing, naught of hope had I ;When a vain shadow lured me to relyOn some fair boon for me mote be ordainedIn formous form whose counterfeit remainedEnsouFd, and raised me unto height so high.

SONNETS. 119What ready credit hearts have ever lentTo that they covet with a fix&d will,If once their hard-heart Destiny they forget!Ah ! Leave me error : I am heart-content ;For though my lesser grow to greater 111,Remain the glories Fancy doth begetCXLILDiversos does reparfe o Ceo(Cf. Sonns. 44 and 120).Distribute sundry boons the Heavens benign,Willing each spirit own but single boon ;Thiswise with chastest bosom He deckt the MoonWho lights the primal sphere, the chrystalline:Grace made the Mother of the Boy to shine.Who in this vision feels her charms outshone ;Pallas had learning ne'er excelled thine own,And fell to Juno noble empire digne.But now large Heaven deigns on thee outpourThe most He owneth, and 'twere but a trace,Respecting whatso Nature's Author be.Lend thee, fair Dame ! unlief to lend their storeLuna chaste bosom, Venus all her grace,Her learning Pallas, Juno empery.

120 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.CXLIII.Gentil Senhora, se a Fortuna imiga(Written en route to Ceuta?).If, Ladye fair 1 my Fortune, ferest foe,Who against my welfare plots with all the skies,Debar these eyne from dwelling on those eyes.That she pursue me with a sorer blow ;I bear this spirit bound to undergoWrath's direst pressure, fire, sea-injuries,Vowing you Memory that for ever sighsOnly with you unending lien to owe.In this my Sprite where Fortune fails of force,So live 111 keep you, famine, frost and flameShall ne'er out-drive you, ne most parlous plight.Rather, with accents tremulous and hoarseCalling on you, and only in your nameThe winds and all my foes I'll force to flight.CXLIV.Que modo tad siitil da Natureza(To one taking the Fanciscan veil in 1572).What novel show of Nature's subtletiesThe World and every worldly snare to fly,Allows thee hide, ere thy green years go by,So fresh young beauties 'neath a frock of frieze !Yet can it never hide that high-bred ease,The gracious gravity of that sovran eye.Before whose radiance 'mid the lave have ILost all resistance, lost all energies.

SONNETS. 121Whoso would fare him free of griefs and pains,Seeing and bearing her in thought memorious,By very self of Reason self condemns.For who deserved sight of charms so gloriousMust live a prisoned wight ;since Love ordainsIn her own right She claim to be victorious.CXLV.Quando se vir com agoa ofogo arder,(On an attempt to remove his lover).When man sees water burn with blazing loweAnd brightest Dayshine mate with blackest Night ;When Earth upheaves her depths to highmost height,Where Heaven his own prerogative doth show :When Love at Reason's feet shall lout him lowAnd Fortune level all with equal right,I will forego to see that fairest sightAnd then, the sight foregone, Love I'll unknow.But since hath never seen such change, such chance,The World, for-that, in fine, no sight e'er sees it,None seek to wean me fro ?my love of you,Basta, that bide in you mine EsperanceTo save my Soul or, an you please, to leese it,Ne'er shall mine eyes consent your sight to unview.

122 LYBJCKS OF CAMOENS,CXLVLQuando a suprema dor muito me aperta,(His greatest misery would be to forget).When I (by siipreme miseries opprest)Say 'tis my wish forge tfuln ess to find,3Tis but a violence offered to my mind,And nills Free-will obey such tyrant-hest.Then rouseth me from fault the faultiestLight in a saner intellect enshrine'd,Showing 'tis foolish thought or feigning kindTo say such resting bringeth certain rest.For this true Image, which hath representedIn mind the single Good I must forego,After a fashion shows my hand hath hent it.Then blest and blissful grows the Grief I owe,Sith by its causing I enjoy contentedA Weal that e'en unseeing you I know.CXLVILJWa margem de httm ribeyro,(Natercia married ?}.que fendiaOn bank of brooklet, cleaving with its tideOf liquid chrystalline, a fair green plain,Sombre with sorrow Liso (hapless swain)On bole of mountain-ash enpropt thus cried :" Cruel Natercia ! Who doth so misguideThy kindly caring for my care-full bane ?If undeceived I must dree such pain.By thee deceived ever mote I bide."

SONNETS. 123What of that faith and troth to me thou plightedst ?What of that purest love that showed its fairest ?Who could so readily do all undone ?When with those Eyne another's love thou sightedst,How couldst forget what oath to me thou swarestBy all their splendours, thou wast mine, mine own ?"CXLVIII.Se me vem tanta gloria so de olharte,(Sufistical :Love's loss is his gain).If I so triumph but because I view thee,I see more sorrow when mine eyes unsight thee :If I would merit thee by praise I write thee,Largely I pay false hopes to woo and sue thee.If as thou be my praise aspire to approve thee,I know that I as I shall but despight thee,If illI will myself for Will I plight thee,What more can will or wish I save to love thee ?How aids me not this love of rarest guise ?O human treasure ! Osweet blessing glorious!Happy the man who deathward for thee hies !Writ in my thoughts thy name shall last memorious \This soul shall live because for thee she dies ;Since battle's issue is to be victorious.

124 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.CXLIX.Sempre a Razao venddafoy de Amor.(Cf. Sonn. 36, 46, and 49 : Canz., VII. 5; Eel. II. 27.)By Amor routed Reason aye hath been ;But when my heart with pleading ? gan assail,Love granted power of Reason to prevail,Now what more curious case has man e'er seen 1New mode of dying, new griefs evergreen1A mighty marvel ! admirable tale !That Love of vigour at the end should fail,Lest of itsvigour fail Love's vigorous teen.Never was frailty in true loving known ;Nay, this wise ever gaineth more of mightOne foe that other foe would see o'erthrown.But Reason who, in fine, can win such fightI hold not Reason ; liefer would I own'Tis inclination to my own despightCL.Coytado^ que em hum tempo choro^ e rio ;(Cf. Sonn. 9).Poor 1 1 who laugh and cry at single tide ;Feel Hope and Wanhope, love and yet abhor ;Conjointly Life enjoy, and Life deplore;And in one thing confiding disconfide.Wingless I fly, withouten eyes I guide ;Of what I merit most I hold least store ;Then speak I better when of speech forlore jUncontradicted all I override.

SONNETS. 125For me the Impossible makes all possible ;By Change I struggle gain of rest to get ;To be a captive, to be free as air :I would be seen, I would be invisible ;Would 'scape the netting and yet love the net ;Such are the extremes wherein this dav I fare !CLI.Julgame agente fodaporperdido,("The world well lost").The world misjudgeth I have lost my lot,Seeing me lover-like so 'joy my pain,So shun my neighbours, far fro' man remain,Forgetting human commerce and forgot:But as allknowledge of the world I wot,And view its doublings from a higher plane,I hold him rustick, cozened, base of strain,Who with my Love-grief greater groweth not.Revolve, revolving aye, Earth, Main and Wind ;At wealth and honours let the vulgar fly,Oe'rcoming fire and steel and heat and cold.Let me in Love alone Contentment find,Ensculptured thro' timeless Time to espyYour lovely semblance in my soul ensouPd.

126 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.CLILDittos^ aonde o Ceo com Im maes fura^(Cf. Sonn. 38).Eyes wherein !heavenly radiance purest pureWilled of His puissance show most certain sign,An ye would rightly see how strong you shine,View me the Creature of your self, the Viewer !In me you'll view your living portraiture,Properer than shrined in purest Chrystallme,Because you'll certes view in Soul of mine,Clearer than Chrystalline, your forrnosure.For mine I only wish my Wish to see,If more for loving haply be my due,That mote your powers enseal me for your thrall.I see no worldly memory in me :All I forget remembering you, and youO'er me triumphant I o'ertriumph all.CLIILCriou a Natureza Damas bellas^(How excellent is his lover : written for a friend ?).Nature bare lovely Dames, and Poet's layWI' deathless lyre-quills in their laud delighted ;Their parts most prized she in you united,And all their bestest made you, Dame !display.They in your presence show the Star's pale rayAnd, seeing you, starken in eclipse benighted ;But an they have for Sun those rosy-lightedRays of more radiant Sun, thrice happy they !

SONNETS. 127In grace, perfection and in gentle rede,By mode to mortals certes peregrine,This Beauty all things beauteous doth exceed.O could I borrow part of the DivineTo merit you but if pure Love ! you heedAs aught availing, I of you am digne.CLIV.Que esperayS) Esperan$a ?Desespero.(Dialogue he : will love against hope.)Hope what of hoping own ! you? "I despair."What, then, hath Wanhope caused? "A variance."You, Life, how fare you ? " Lorn of esperance."What say you, Heart"? In fondest love I fare."What, Soul, feel you ? "That Love brings cruel care."In fine, how live you ? " Sans a hope in chance/*What, then, sustaineth you ? " One sovenance."Is this your only hope ?" Hope's sole repair."Where can you take your stead? "Here where Iwone."And where now wone you? "Where mylife isdead."And hold you Death a weal ?" Love wills sobe."Who dooms you thus ?" Myself to self beknown.* 1Who may you be?" One self surrendered."" To one dearest she."To whom surrendered ?

128 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.CLV.Se como em tudo o maesfostes perfeyta,(Her cruelty and his resignation : for a friend ?).If,as in all things else you be perfected,Your coy condition were less fugitive,Then would rny Fortune at high goal arrive,Then would its height to you be more subjected.But when my life is at your feet dejected,And you accept not, Life-tide nills survive :Life of herself would me of me deprive,Rejecting me because by you rejected.An Life in loving you your Will oppose,Command, my Ladye !that she end mine illsAnd the profoundest sadness e'er I dree :Yet she refuses me, not that she knowsA touch of pity, but on me she willsTo grant you glutting of your cruelty.CLVI.Se algun? Jwra essa vista maes suave(Written for a friend ?).If your douce Vision at some hour you deignHaply to grant me, ere one moment wentI feel such joyaunce, sense so full Content,Fear I no losses, dread ne ban ne bane.But when with scorn so sore, so dour disdainThat beauteous face whole-hearted you present,I prove such torment, pangs so vehement,Tis mighty marvel life survives the pain.

SONNETS. 129So doth mylife -tide or the death of meHang from an eye-glance ; your prerogativeDealeth rne life or death with glance of eye.Happy if grant rne Heaven or DestinyYou give me life that back to you I give,Or death because I only crave to die !CLVILTanto seforav, Kinfa^ costumando(For a friend ?).So fared, Nymph!self-customing these EyneTo weep what sorrows dealt thy Will so dure.That now they thole, by Nature's use and ure,What sufferings Accident did first assign.Hours due to sleeping I in waking pineAnd watch ,of nothing sauf of sorrow sure :But all my weepings ne'er thy harshness cureThough ever weep and weep these eyes of mine.This wise from woe to woe, from grief to grief.They wear themselves away in vain, in vain,And eke my hapless life they wear away.To water Love-fire what a poor relief!For I am ever weeping with my painÂnd at my weeping laughst thou glad and gay.Thus my new tears are fainTo pay fresh tax of stowreWhen, seen thy laughter, I but weep the more.

130 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.CLVIII.Ru me aparto de vfis, Ninfas do Tejo,(Taking leave of the Lisbon dames. Cf. Sonn. 108).Nymphs of the Tagus !I fro' you take flight,When least I drad this parting dole to dree ;And if in sorrow yede my soul, shall seeYour sight in eyes wherewith I see your sight.Hopes well-nigh hopeless, plight of utter blight,A Love that never sets my Reason free,Shall soon bring end to life-long misery,Save I return to see my dear delight.But meanwhile never, ne by night ne day,Shall thoughts of you be seen depart my heart.Love, with me faring, certifies this true.Whatever retardance may Return delay,One sad companion ne'er fro' me shall part,The yearning grief for Weal that bides with you.CLIX.Ventido esta de AmorMen fensamento.(Acrostic. "Yours as Captive, highest Senhora !).Fielding to Love I seeO all Life yielded, allIfigh Thoughts low li'en ;7 yielded see,7hto you subject, and î'en yours to be,tendering whatever I haveSo well-content I laudJfow you design.-Sach moment mine,.^nd hour when all I saw .Surcease to me :Cueing a thousand times 3Thewounds I dree,

SONNETS. 131Claiming a thousand more So tristful fine.A claim so high as this JTer shall for-surePrompt me with Cause to Noteworthy prize,winTo gain surnatural Height, JTbnour sublime.I here forswear allOther Aventfcre,Fbwed to a single Love, J?are sacrifice,by your love to be Attaint of Crime.CLX.Dirina Companhia qiee nos prados(His Exegl Monumentum, &c.).Ye god-like Bevy who upon the plainOf clear Eurotas, or Olympus-Mount,Or by the margent of Castallan fountHolier studies to your heart have tane jSithence the never-moved Fates ordainMe of your number you vouchsafe account.In Fame eternal of BellerophontTo hang these bronze-engraved verses deign :**Soliso (willing future agesHow notemuch of Beauty's boon he meritethWho with sage folly doth his soul inflame)?What writ (fro Fortune now secure) he wroteUnto these Altars this hand offereth,That hands his Spirit to his beauteous Dame."K 2

132 LYRJCKS OF CAMOENS.CLXI.A la margen del Tajo en claw dia^(Spanish attributed to D. :Diogo de Mendoza).By Tagus' margin on a bloom of dayWith ribbed ivory combing wavy hairNatercia stood, and quencht her eyes the glareOf nooning Phoebus railing hottest ray.Soliso, following her in Clyde's way,From self far absent while to her full near,Sang to his bagpipe praises of his FereWho fired his bosom, and thus said his say ;"If I as many as thy hairs on headHad lives to give thee, thou shouldst have the whole,And pluck them, each and every, thread by thread.And for their loss my soul thou wouldst consoleIf, thousand times as they are numberedIn them thou wouldest mesh this lifeCLXILmy sole."Por gloria tuve u?i tiempo el ser perdido ;(Spanish :a Lexapren or repetition Sonnet).Whilome I gloried to be ruined ;Ruined me gaining of the purest gain ;Gained I when liberty forfared I fain ;Fain now I find me free but conquered.Conquered I to Nise 'rendered ;'Rendered lest she leave me lone remain :Remain but thoughts of Pleasure turned to Pain ;Pain gars me now deplore my service sped.

SONNETS. 133Sped I to serve the Light my love besought ;My love besought I hoped to win full sure ;Full sure my dearest hopes all came to nought.Nought of my hope now seems to me secure ;Security dwelleth but in things ne'er thought ;Thought must of dubious end the throes endure.CLXIILRebuelvo en la incessable fhantasia^(Spanish. Cf. Sonn. No. 77).I turn and turn in ceaseless PhantasyWhat things I saw when luckiest lot I claimed,Eke when I live (as now) by love inflamed,Eke when I lived from his 'flamings free.Twas then mine only thought this fire to flee,In life disdaining every shaft he aimed :Now for the Bygones sorrowing and ashamedI hold as glory pains I drad to dree.Right well I recognise 'twas life's delightTo live a life unrecking doubt and fear,When viewed I gust of love as gust of wind.But now Natercia's spell so charms my sight,I find within this jail gloire dearest dear,And free to lose it fiercest pain I find.

134 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.CLXIV.Las penas retumbavan al gemido(Spanish.Possibly written in Ceuta).The cliffy mountains echoed the moanOf the sad Shepherd, who vain mourning madeFor griefs that heavy on his spirit weigh' d,Born of an obstinate Unlove's malison.The billows ramping on the rocks, each groanWith hollow tomblings gave rewording aid ;'Twas heard confused in the winds that stray 'd,JTwas told by dales and vales of caverned stone." Respond the hardest Mountains to my griefAh me !(he murmured) rings and roars the Sea,While woe-full Echoes sympathy confess :And thou, for whom Death lays his mark on me,'Sdeignest by hearing grant my pyne relief;And when I weep the more I melt thee less.CLXV.En una seluaal dispuntar del dia(Spanish. By Dom Fernando de Acunha ?).Hid in a forest, at the flush of day,Stood sad Endymion wailing for his woes,Facing the rays of Sol, who hasty roseAnd down a mountain rained his earliest ray.Fixing the Light that on his joys would prey,The Foe who fought to slay his douce repose,With sighs and singulfs, these a-following those,In reasoned sadness thus the swain 'gan say;

SONNETS. 135" Clear Light! obscurest sight I ever view'd,Who by thy progress hot and hurriedMy Sun obscuredst with thy darkling dyes ;If aught can move thee in that altitudeComplaint of Shepherd-youth enamoured,I pray return thee whence thou diddest rise/'CLXVLOrfeo enamorado gue tania,(From Monte Mayor's Alcina y Silvano).The lover Orpheus struck so sweet a quillFor the lost Ladye he would lief regain,Who in implacable Orcus place had tane,Thrilled her his harp and voice with tenderest thrillIxion's whirling wheel awhile stood still,The tortured Shadows cared not to complain ;He gentled every other's harshest painAnd to himself took all of other 111.The song prevailed with so puissant guise,That for douce guerdon of his minstrelsy,The Kings of Hades (feelingfor his woe)Ordained he fare him with his Fere for prizeBut, turned that ill-starred wight her sight to see,When he and she were lost for evermo'e.

136 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.E?i cantey /,

SONNETS.But as you leave me thus withouten leaving,Leave, and may Heaven bestow such aventiireThat all advantage on your hopes attendAnd of this single truth fare right secure,For this your faring there is more of grieving,Than wishes wafting you to wisht-for end.CLXIX.Campo nas Syrfes deste mar da vtda,| Written at some friend's country house).Country in shoaling Syrt of Being-sea,Safe plank so welcome pluckt from perilous wreck :Breaks of calm blue that blackest clouds befleck,Of Peace the homestead. Love's own sanctuary :Theeward I fly: but if I win who flee,And if a changed place changed fortunes make,Sing me the victor's hymn and in this brakeHonour triumphant o'er all honours be.When Summer blooms, when Autumn fruitage reaps.Here the clear useful waters murmuring flow ;Glad finds me here, here gladsome leaves me Day.Enamoured nightingales here break the sleepsWeariness weaveth ;here I 3 tomb the WoeWhilom the grave where allmy joyaunce lay.

138 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.CLXX.A7i, minha Dinamene !(Ad Dinameneni aquls extinctam.Assi deixasteCf. Sonn. i6S).Then couldst thou leave, ah Dinamene mine !One who could never leave the will to sue thee,That now, gent Nymph I these eyne may ne'erreview thee ?Why thus despised life so soon resign ?How couldst abandon for eternal syneOne who to lose thee did so far pursue thee ?And had this Main such might that it withdrew thccFrom ever seeing him so doomed to pine ?Not e'en allowed me Death dour and dureTo speak thee, thou thyself the sable veilConsentedst o'er thine eyes by Doom be thrown.O Sea ! O Sky! O my sad lot obscure 1What life can lose I that shall much avail,If cheap I hold it in such woes to wone ICLXXI.Gitardando em mi a sorteo seu direyto,(Same subject. Gsrcilasso ; Sonn. 26).Fortune, preserving rights of sovranty,Cut short my gladness when 'twas green and gay,Ah me ! how much was ended on that dayWhich in my bosom brent such memory !The more I muse, the more it seemeth meThat for such welfare Discount one must pay ;Unless one deem it meet the World should sayThere's perfect goodness in her treacherous gree.

SONNETS. 139Then ifmy Fortune for such Discount meant meTo dree displeasure, in whose sentimentWhat punish-Memory can only kill me to content me ;What blame shall deal me Thought?ment ?If the same cause Thought chooseth to torment me,Cause me to suffer ill what Ills torment ?CLXXII.Cantando esfara hum dia bem(Same subject :Lupi Mcerin videre priores).One day befell me Isang my song secure,When Silvio passing this wise said his say :(Silvio,that ancient Suain who knew to spaeBy song of birds the Future's way full sure.)" Liso I whenever willeth Fate obscure,Shall come to oppress thee on the self-same dayTwo wolves : at once thy voice and tuneful layShall fly thee, flee thy melody suave and pure ! "True I thus it fortuned ;one tare the throatOf all I owned, and drove to grass my kineWhereon I builded hopes of sterling gain.And for more damage yet, the other smoteMy gentle lambkin I did love so fain,Perpetual yearning of this soul of mine.

140 LYRICKS OF CAMOEXS.CLXXIII.O Ceo, a terra, o vcnto sosscgado ;(Same subject).The Heavens and Earth all husht; no gusts to moan ;The waves dispreadlng o'er the sandy plain,The fishes slumber-reined In the Alain,The nightly Silence on her rest-full throne :The Fisher-youth Aonio, sadly strownWhere to the wind-breath sways the watery reign,Weeps, and the loved name bewails in vain.Which may no longer save by name be known." Wavelets ! ere Love shall do me dead (he cried)To me return my Nymph, whose early DeathDespite my dolour was "by you designed !None answer ! Tombleth from afar the tide ;With gentle movement slow the forest sway'th ;Winds catch the words and waft them on thewind.CLXXIV.Ah, F?n tuna cruel ! Ah,ditros Fados !iSame suLject).Ah cruel Fortune ! AhFate loath to spare !How sudden changed you to the worst my best !Your care and cark have robbed me of my rest,And now ye restful! gloat on cark and care.Whilere ye made me in fruition fare.And your conditions on my gusts would test ;All, one by one, in single hour to wrest,Leaving redoubled bale where blessings were.

SONNETS. 141How better far had been I never sawThe doucest boons of Love? Boons (ah so !) suave;Why leave me, leaving me of you forlorn ?Thy voice fro' plaining, peevish Soul ! withdraw :Soul fallen fro' high estate to pain so grave,E'en as thou lovedst in vain 'tis vain to mourn.CLXXV.Quanta tempo,olhos meus, com tal lamento(Probably written in India).How long, mine Eyes! how long with such lamentShall I behold you tristful, aggravated ?Suffice you not sighs burning, never sated,Renewing torments aye my soul torment ?Sufficeth not my reveries consentIn pining, plaining, yearning unabated ?Still must you fare parforce so ill-entreatedYou feed on tear-floods' only nutriment ?I weet not wherefore this Revenge ye take,Proving in absence such Repine for pain,If knew ye all what mote one Esperance make,Eyes !other fairest eyes to vex refrain,Turning pure love to coy and care-full ache,Lest you be charged with a coy Disdain.

142 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.CLXXVI.Lembran$a$ que lemlrays o bem passado,(Written after Natercia's death?).Memories remembering Good of by-gone date,That present Evil more of IIIpresent,Let me, an will ye, live my life content,Let me not perish in this pitiful state.If all, withal, be naught but fiat of Fate,I die of life In Discontentment spent.Come all my blessings by Love's Accident,And come mine even 7bane premeditate.For loss of life to me hath lesser cost,As thus "'twould lose sad memories aye memorious.Memories whereby such Ills in thought obtain.For naught he loseth who, in fine, hath lostThe hopes he cherisht of that good so glorious,Which made a pleasure of his very pain.CLXXVILQitando osolhos emprego no passado^(Garcilasso 5Sonn. I.).When I employ mine eyes on times gone by.Of allmy Bygones I parforce repent ;What went In wanton waste I see misspent ;And a!!employments misemployed espy.Aye tied to losing game with tightest tie,All I accomplisht 'complisht detriment ;And recking least what Disillusion meantWhen Hope appeared hopelessest was I.

SONNETS. 143The many Castles built In dreams of day,At point when towering to their tallest pride,I saw Time sudden on this level lay.With what wild Falses wanton Fancy lied !All stops in Death, the Wind sweeps all away,Sad he that !hopes Sad he that dares confide !CLXXVIILJa cantey\ jet chorey a dura giterra(A Palinode. Cf. Sonn. j, 3, 167, 182, and 301).Erst sang I,erst I wept Love's tyranny.And his dure warfare did for years sustain ;Forbade he thousand times I tell my bane.For fear his followers all their error see.!Nymphs for whom opes and closes Castaly ;Ye who in thousand snares have Death o'ertane,Concede me now your energies sovereign,To tell on Love, what ills encloseth he.That whoso heed his hest thro' youth's hot tide,In my pure verses find a proof full ampleHow oft in promised glories hath he lied.For while my saddest state I see for sample,If you inspire my task, full-satisfiedI'llhang my votive lyre upon your temple.

144 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.MyCLXXIX.Os meus alegres venturosos diets,(By Diogo Bemardes?).tale of happy, fortune-favoured Days,Passed like the leven-ray so speedy spent ;Slow-paced fare sluggish stounds of drearimentFollowing joyaunce, fugitive estrays.Ah false pretensions Vain ! !phantastick waysWhat can ye bring me now to breed Content ?When of my fevered breast the flame that brentFrore Time to ashes froze that genial blaze.Past faults in ash-heaps I revolve and trowYouth left none other fruit for heritage,Whence shame and Dolour for my soul are meet.Revolve i more than all my more of age,Vain longings, vainer weepings, vainest woe.That fleet-fout Time with allmay flit and fleetCLXXX.Horas breves de meu contentamento^(By Francisco de Sa de Miranda?}.Short Hours ! whose glad Content my fortune graced,When I enjoyed you, Fancy ne'er had powerTo see you changed in one easy hour.And by the tortures of long years effaced.What towering castles on the wind I basedOverturned, In fine, the Wind that bore the tower,My fault engendered mine abiding stowre,For-that on sandy base my house was placed.

SONNETS. 145Love with his luring shows at first draws near ;All things he maketh possible, all secure :But when at bestest then shall disappear.Strangest of evils strange misaventure !For some small good that ne'er can persevereOne Good to venture that doth aye endure ICLXXXI.Onde acharey lugar tad apartado^(Written in Africa? Cf. Elegy XL).Where shall I ever find so far a spotsIn fullest freedom from all Aventiire,1 say not only fro' mankind secure.But e'en where forest-creature entereth not ?Some dreadful darkling Deene by man forgotsOr solitary tangle, sad, obscure,Where grow no grasses, flow no fountains pure.In fine a site so similar to my lot ?That I, emprisoned in the craggy womb,May amid Death-in-Life and Life-in-Death ?and in full lament.My fortunes freelyThere, as my gauge of grief naught measureth sNo days of joyaunce shall I spend in gloom,And gloomy days shall find my soul content.Lyrzcks

146 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.CLXXXILAqui de longos danos breve historia(By Diogo Bernard es ?).Here of my long-lost Weal short historyWho boast them being amourists may read :To them repair of dole it may concede,Mine it can ne'er fro' memory cause to flee.I wrote not seeking fame or jactancyMy other verses merit for their meed ;But to display her vaunt of cruel deedWho vaunts so high a victory over me.Yet grow my sorrows with my growing years,They made my numbers sing, devoid of art,The guile of blind-fold Love who robbed my wit.An voice I gave to song ;to tearsI gaveMy Soul, and tane in hand my pen, this part,This little of all part? my pains I writ.CLXXXIILPor sua Ninfa Cefalo deixava(Of Cephalus the "bucephalous." Ovid., Met. 7).Cephalus, love-smit by his Nymph withdrew.Leaving Aurora lost in love for aye,Albe the goddess herald lovely Day,Albe she mirror flowers of rosiest hue.He who fair Procris loved with love so true,That for her love the world he would bewray,Seeks a temptation that shall try her fayAnd tempt the firmness in her Fere she knew.

SONNETS. 1Doffing his raiment dons he a dire deceit :Feigns him another, offers her a price:She breaks her fickle faith and gives ConsentSubtle invention for his own defeat !See the blind lover find so strange deviceThat live he ever life of Discontent !CLXXXIV.Sentindose alcanâdti a bella Esposa(Continues Sonn. 183. Where is the third ?).Feeling herself entrapt the lovely SpouseOf Cephalus to sin so readily led.Far from her husband o'er the mountains fled,By snare compelled or by shame none trows.For he, in fine, whom jealous pangs arouseAnd on blind errand by Cupido sped,Like a lost traveller toileth on her treadAnd pardoneth all her crimes of violate vows.Before the hard Nymph's feet he prostrate lay,Who for his jealous trick enstoned her heart,To pray her pardon, e'en for life to pray.Oh. strong Affection with thy madding art IWhen for the sin that would himself betrayHe must pray pardon from the peccant part I

148 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.CLXXXV.Segitia aquettefogo que o guiava,(After Musseus).Followed the beckoning of the beacon-fireLeander, battling wind and battling wave ;Yet brast the billows on the breast so braveThe more, as Love would more of strength inspire.Whenas his forces felt he faint and tire,Without one craven thought his will to enslave,3Tho reft of words, the intent for which he straveThus he commended to the sea's deaf ire :" Thou Sea !" (the youngling cried in lone distress)My life I pray not ;now my only prayerSave me my Hero, nill this sightshe see.Bear thou my lifeless body, let it fareFar from her tower \be my friend in thisSith my best joyaunce moved thy jealousy.CLXXXVI.Q$ olhos onde o casto Amor ardia^(Epitaph-sonnet, by Diogo Bernardes ?).Those eyne where showed chaste Love his ardent glow,Joying his fiery form in them to sight ;That face where blusht with lustre marvel-brightThe Rose-bud purpling on her bed of snow :The locks that fired Sol with enTious loweBecause they 'minish&d his golden light ;That hand's pure whiteness and that form so dightIn clay Death-chilled all lie here below.

SONNETS.J49Perfectest loveliness In youngest years,Blossom In time untimely torn from Earth,That fades and withers gript by Death's hand dure :How melts not Love and drowns In piteous tears ?Not shed for Her who fared to heavenly birth ;But for himself left here in night obscure.CLXXXVILDifosa pena^ como a mad que a guia,(To Manvel Barata the Caligraplier: after A.D. 1572).Pen I ever happy as Its guiding hand 3With such perfected art in subtlest ways,Whenas with Reason I would 'tempt thy praise,I lose the praises which my Fancy fand :But Love, who shifteth efforts at command,Command to sing thee all-wise on me lays,Not with the warrior-plectrum Mart essays,But in suave melodies and musick bland.Thy name, Emmanuel hight, from Pole to PoleSublimely towereth spreading thy renown,When erst none raised thee above thy peers:But that thy name be writ on deathless roil ;Behold Apollo brings the bloomy crown,Kept as thy guerdon for such growth of years.

LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.CLXXXVIII.Espanta crecer tanto o(To a new bishop, Pinheiro, the Pine. Cf. Sonn. 190).We note with marvel growth of CrocodileOnly for born so puny-Impotent ;Who, born a grosser birth, would representA lesser marvel to his patrlal Nyle.Vainly shall heavenward raise my earthly styleYour new and now Pontifical ornament ;For deathless Merits, while a-womb stillpentShaped robes to enrobe you in the welcome while.Foreslow'd yet slow It came : our due of meedOft cometh slowest ;Tho 7this is sure and clear,guerdon some time cometh not remiss.The spheres, that nearest neighbour Primal Sphere,Have tardier movements. Who hath power to redeUpon that riddle, riddle such as this !CLXXXIX.Ornou sublime esforgo a o grande Atlante^(To the Viceroy D. Joam de Castro).Bedeckt great Atlas meed of Might sublime,Wherewith the sky-machine he mote sustent ;Genius enhonoured Homer to Invent3Yond the fourth sky a path for Greece to climb.Crowned clear constant Love who spurneth TimeOrpheus, ne peace could tempt ne storm torment ;Inspired Fortune free and confidentCxsar, her fondling in his youthful prime.

SONNETS. 15 1Thou, Fame !upralsedst to the hill of GloireAlcide in ranges where thou lovst to bide :But Castro, Heaven-endowed with highest claim.Decks, honours, crowns, inspires, upraises moreThan Atlas, Homer, Orpheus, Caesar, Alcide,The meed of Might, Genius, Love, Fortune,Fame.CXC.Desfoys que TW Cibeh o corpo human(Cf. Sonn. 188).When viewed Cybelfc what erst had beenFair Atys* human form grown verdant Pine,Her first vain anger gan to ruth incline.And hopeless wailed she her new-born teen.Devising noble snare her woe to wean,She prayfed Jupiter, of love divine.The worth of noble Palm and Bay to assignUnto her Pine-tree, Sovran of the Green,Vouchsafes a better boon her puissant Son,Its growth should touch the stars with toweringbrow,And there see mysteries of the sky supernal.O happy Pine-tree ! thou happier oneWho sees his brows becrowned with your boughAnd in your shadow sings his songs eternal !

152 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.CXCI.JPoys torna for sen Rey, e juntamente(To Viceroy D. Luis de Athaide in 1577).Then for his Roy to rule, and service doFor Christ conjointly, 'turneth to the partWhere self he sliowed a Numa and a Mart,Enfamed Lewis just and valiant-true :Let Tagus hope all Orient-land to view(Where rarely gifts so rare the Heavens impart)Yielding to such high force, such prudent art,Of Palms a thousand, thousand tributes new.Whoso of Ganges or of Indus drink,Whom scant availed strength of spear or shield,Shall bow and bowing have the lesser harm.Hearing his coming name shall Eiiphrate shrink jForeseeing all things to his terror yield,As erst seen conquered by his forceful arm.CXCII.Agora toma a espada^ agora a pena,(To Estacio de Faria ; Soldier and Poet).Now hends in hand the Brand, now hends the PenOur Eustace either gift hath glorified,Being or Mars-beloved on briny tideOr Muse's lover in sweet-founted glen.Sonorous Swan, fair Riverside's denizen !To sing thine exploits were my joy and pride ;For song deserving thee was aye deniedTo rustick pipe or reed ofjruial men.

SONNETS. 153If I who hent the Pen and hent the Brand,To play with either mote permission claim.By the high influence Planets twain award ;With this and other light by their command,Thou, man of pushing arm and soul of fiarne !Shalt fare a Pharos-lamp to Brave and Bard.CXCIILJErros meus, m& Forfuna, Amor ardente(The Penitent poems begin).Mine Errors, evil Fortune, Amors loweDid for the spilling of my life conspire :O'eraiuch was error, vain was Fortune's ire.Sufficed me only Love and nothing mo'e,I passed them all, but now so present showOf Things that passed Dolours dure and dire.Their long persistence taught me all DesireTo lose, for longing no Content can know.I erred through all the courses of my years ;I lent to Fortune pretext to chastiseMy hopes ill-founded on a foot so frail.Little I saw of Love save passing snares.Ah had I power to glut in feilest guiseWith its revenge this Spirit hard to quail !

154 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.CXCIV.Ca nesfa Bdbiloma a donde mana(First Zion-Babylon-Goa Sonnet. Cf. Psalm 136).Here In this Babylon-realm, where rails amainMatter which breeds a World's iniquity:Here, where the purest Love hath low degree,Whose Mother's more of might makes all prophane:Here where Bad grows a blessing, Good a bane \Where Alight isRight and Right is Tyranny :Here where a blind and blundering MonarchyHolds God deceived by verbiage empty-vain :Here in this Labyrinth where the Good, the Wise,The noblest bred to beg their bread are metBefore the gates of villein covetize :Here in this Chaos black with fume and fret,I wend the natural way before me lies.See then if thee, my Zion ! I can forget !cxcv.Correm turbas as agoas deste rw,(His Country's disorder an : allegory).Turbid the waters of our River glide,Befouled by freshets and bestained by rain ;Drowth wilts the flowerage of the riant plainAnd wuthering winds thro* withering Valleys gridePassed (like Winter) ardent Summer-tide ;These things for others in exchange were tane :The faithless Fates retired from the ReignOf worldly matters to misrule affied.

SONNETS. 155Now Time his order to ordain hath known ;Not so the World : It courseth so askanceThat all its semblance showeth God-forgotNature, opinions, habit, various chanceSo work that seemeth all the life we ownIs but a semblance, what seems not is not.CXCVI.Vomttros que buscays repouso arto(Same theme as Sonn. 350).Ye other Wanderers seeking certain restIn life, by divers deeds of enterprise \To whom, on worldly gear enfixing eyes,A veil would seem itsgovernance to invest ;Offer to Disconcert (an deem ye best)Your new-born honours, blinded sacrifice ;For antique vices fitly to chastiseGod wills the course of things His rale attest.Ne'er in such form of chastisement he fellWho blameth Fortune, to believe contentThat Sort and Chances form Creation's plan.In great experience greater dangers dwell :But what God seeth just and evident,Seemeth unjust and over-deep for man.

l$6 LYRICKS OF CAMG&NS,CXCVILPara se namorar do que(Conception Sonnet : Petrarch II. Canz. 8).To love the Made, with loving InfiniteGod made Thee 3 holy Phoenix, purest Maid !Behold how great must be the Creature's gradeWhom the Creator hath for self bedight IHe framed thy substance in ideal heightPrime, ere Creation's primal base was laidThat be unique in own array array'dThe Made, long studied by the Maker's mightI n'ote that any words of mine can ownPower to express those rarest qualitiesIn thee He made whom madest thou thy Son,and if hast wonDaughter, Wife, Mother, Thou !Thou singly three such lofty dignities,?Twas Thou, sole Thou sso pleasedst the Three-in-One.CXCVIILDece do Ceo immense Deos benino^(Incarnation Sonnet :Amcebsean).Descends from Heaven's immense the God benign,Made flesh in Maiden-mother sovereign.Why downs the power Divine to dwell with men ?**Tis that Mankind uprise to the Divine."Why comes he then so poor and infantineBearing the baleful power of tyrant-bane ?"'Tis that He comes Death's bitter cup to drainAnd pay of senseless Adam's sin the fine."

SONNETS. 157Then could the Twain dare eat that fruit of tree,The food their Maker so to them forbade ?" Yes ; for they sought assume Divinity."And for this reason was He human made ?" Yes ;for 'twas ordered, and with cause obey'd,If man would be a god, God man should be."CXCIX.Dos Ceos a terra dece a mor Belleza ;(Nativity Sonnet :quasi-Amoebsean).Fro' Heaven the highest Beauty earthward flies,And with our flesh ennobled deigneth wone ;That Man by Povert erst so woe-begoneThis day to richest riches mote arise.The wealthiest Lord doth poorest penury prize ;For when to mortal world His love was shown,That tender body on vile straw was strewn,And for this straw Heaven's self He doth despise."How ? God descend on Earth in Poverty ? "That which is poorest gars Him so content,Seems such Contentment Earth's sole treasury.This manger Poverty doth represent ;But so great merit Povert rose to be,Content him most the pauperest indigent

158 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.ccPorque a tamanhas penas se offer ece.(Passion Sonnet :quasi-Amoebaean).Why Self thus offereth to such penaltyFor sin of alien, error so Insane,The trinal Godhead ?" J TIs because the painDue to his punishment no man can dree."Say? who shall suffer all that suffereth He ?Who shall endure dishonour death and bane ?" Who be so potent, save the SovereignWhich reigns and rules His slaves obediently ?Man's highest power had so puny might,It lackt the puissance with such stowre to fence,Nor kept the laws ordained by the Lord.Yet all He suffered by that Strength immenseIn cause of purest love for ; aye propenseSin-ward our weakness was, not sln 7 s award.CCLDepoys de aver chorado os meus tormentos,(A Proemlum to the Tristia).When I had wept, bewailing my despair,Love wills me sing the glories of his prize.I sing the victories of a fairest Faire,And of long-suffering weep the Memories.But an those pains of mine be victoriesIn such a cause when Thought so -high shall fareDIspread themselves in large large historiesThese my surrenders that such boast can bear.

SONNETS. 159Let one sole marvel make the Universe ring,What be her beauties at whose shrine I bow,Who pays with fee of tears the songs I bring.Content I offer Love this tax of woe :Eor an no sobs can match the song I sing,No singing sweeter than these sobs I know.CCILOnde mereci eu tal pensamento^(The same theme).Whence did I merit by such Thought be shent*Never by human being merited ?Whence did I merit to be conqueredOf one whose conquest so high honour lent ?Grows to a glory what did most torment,W T hen seeing showeth me to loss misled ;For no such evil was in hardiheadAs there was glory in that hardimentI live, my Ladye, only while I view you ;And so this soul surrenders to the strifeThat, drowned In tears, I take of life my leave.But ne'er shall make my spirit cease to lo ?e youFears of my losing In your cause my life,For you a thousand-fold of lives Pd give.

160 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS,CCIILDefrescas belvederes rodeadas(To certain Maids of Honour at Cintra).By bents encircled, blooming green and gay,Pour the pure waters flowing fro 7 this fount ;And throngs of beauteous Nymphstake stand afrontAye wont to conquer and the foe to slay.They raise, these Rebels spurning Cupid-sway,Their grace and graces lacking tale and count :Forgetting other valley, other mount,And here In quiet while their lives away.Summoned his powers and donned his bravest moodLove, who no longer mote endure the slight,Only to make the Mays his vengeance know.But when he saw them, straight he understoodFrom death or prison lacked he power of flight,And there with them he 'bode without his bow,CCIV.JVbs braôs de hum Silvano adormecendo(To Belisa, who married a Bestial for his wealth).Bound to a Sylvan's breast a-slumbermg lay,And there remained, the Nymph I do adore.Paying lip-tribute in so sugred store,Whereby a darkness robbed my eyes of day.O lovely Venus !Why this patience, pray,Suffering thy beauteous Choir's most beauteousflower,So lose her honour In so vile a power,When highest merit fails her fee to pay ?

As predetermined I henceforth will trow,Seeing what novel strangest freak thou bravest,In thee can nothing sure or true endure.Since the clear luminous cheek, the lovely browTo that misfornicd monstrous Thing thou gavest,I'll hold Love nothing only Aventure.ccv,Quern d:z qiie Amor he/also^ mt engansso,(A defence of pure Lore).Who calls Love felon, lief of tricks and lies ;Of icgier mind, forgetful, vain, ing-rate,Shall find withouten fail his merited FateA rale of rigour, rife of cruelties.Love be douce-mindedj charged with charities ;Who saith contrayr allow his words no weight ;Let him be judged blind and passionate.Let men detest him and the gods despise.That Love works Evil well in me is seen ;In me his rigour shows right rigorous showing,To show the World how long his reach and range:But all Love's angersstill with love are glowing:And all his evils I for welfare weenNor would for other weal soch teen exchange*

1 62 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.CCVLFermosa Beatriz, tendes taes geitos(To a Dame of low degree? Cf. Sonn. 69).Beautiful Beatrice I such luring gesteIn the soft roving of those orbs you show,That not to linger, but one look to throwInflames the heart and burns the human breast.All your perfections be so perfectest,Such bliss to merit Hope we must forego,Nor can their knowledge come for man to knowWithout enduring Cupid's dure behest.Felt, to my sorrow, so grave blight and baneThese eyes, that seeing those with sadness blind 3Lost all their pleasure wi' the light forlore.But now you've dealt with them hurt so unkind 5Look with humaner eyes on me againAnd to my hurt you shall full health restore.CCVILA/egres campos, verdes^ deleitosos^(To Jgnez in the Coimbra country?).Glad meadows !gaily deckt with greeny dyes,Your pretty Days-eyes aye these eyne shall woo,For-that their beauties did themselves enmewIn babes of fair Ignez' all-beauteous eyes.Fro' mine, that ever gaze in envious guise,When stars so godlike I no more may view,Ye shall be watered with another dew.Ye shall be aired by a lover's sighs.

SONNETS. 163And ye, gold-petaled flowers !peraventureIf wish and will Ignez my love to essayWith trial tested to the latest leaf:Show her, that she approve a faith so pure,Fair flowers I He-lows-me (and shall love for aye)That of the Lvves-me-not I 'scape the grief*CCVIILOndadosfios de ouro, onde enlazado(To a dame named Paz, i.e. Peace?).Ye rippling golden Threads ! whose tangled skeinMy thoughts for ever in your meshes hold,The more fresh breezes loose you fold by fold,More am I prisoner of my present pain.Love, always armed with some beauteous eyrie,Fights me by force of tormentlse untold,Proving the sufferings In my soul ensoul'd,When 1 to justest laws of Peace Incline.Thus In your lovely, more than mortal gesteI love conjoined Peace and parlous fray;And lo\ingtills and that unsnared I rest ;With self 1 commune, and full oft I sayWhen such the cause is of my care and quest,Just is the warfare, just the Peace I pray.

164 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.CCIX.r^ qm em sonhos vacs do fensamento(Attributed to F. R. I. Surrupita).Love who In vainest dreams of phantasyPays greater jealousy he would abate,Made me In all conditions, every state,The tributary of his torm entry.I slave, I wear}- ; yet my due degreeFor sacrifice to Love-shrine consecrate,Scattered In atomies by hands ingrate,Eterne Oblivion robbed eternally.But when o'er much, in fine, the perils growWhereto condemneth me without surceaseLove, not my lover, rather Love my foe ;Fro' pain I ever find one grand release sFor gloire of loving, which I ne'er forego,No force of evils ever can decrease.ccx.Item o fremendo esfrepifo da giterra,(Written at Ceuta after losing an eye? Cf. Canz. IX. 3),Not the tremendous clash and clang of fightWith fire and fatal arms the world affray,And drive the deadly bullets In such wayThey threaten overthrow to serried height,Have power the fearless lover to affright,Sin' flashed thy fairest eyne their fitful ray??Whereby such horrors wl their dire dismay,Fade from my senses and are fain of flight.

SONNETS. 165Life I can lavish, or by burn or brand,In any dreadful danger bid it go,And (Phcenlx-iike) fro ?death fresh life command.For nie no mister evil fate I know,Wherefrom I may not free nie out of hand,Save from what orders Love, Love aye my foe.CCXLFiottsc o coraâo^ de muyto(Addressed to some kinswoman jloved not honestly ?).The heart entrusted self erst Fancy-freeTo self; illrecking that a heart could holdLove so illicit, love so daring-bold.Such mode of torment man may never see.Yet did these eyne so limn In PhantasyOthers beheld in fancies manifold,That Reason, dreadingall she did behold,Leaving the field to Thought was fain to flee.O chaste Hippolytus !in similar plightThy stepdame Phsedra sought thy love to gain^Rejecting all respect for wrong and right ;Love thy chaste bosom 'venged on my sprite :But Love such vengeance by this brant hath taneHe now repents him of the deed fie dight

1 66 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.CCXII.Quern quiser ver de Amor hu?na excellenaa^(Written before a parting? Petrarch, I, 210).Whoso would see of Love an excellence,Where delicacy doth all love depute,Mark he where placed me mine Aventure,That of my faith he find experience.Where long-drawn Absence slayeth Sovenance,On the dread ocean-wave 3In warfare dnre,Growth of love-yearnings groweth more secureWhere Patience runneth risk of more mischance.But place me Fortune mine or hard-heart FateIn Death, perdition, sorest bane and scathe,Or raise to prosperous post, to highmost height.Place me, for short, in lowest, loftiest state,Theystill shall find I hold till bitter deathOne name a-lip,and one pure face a-sprite.CCXIII.Los ojos qite con Nando moTimienfo(Spanish : written a voluntad ajsna ?}.Those eyne whose gentle glances sweetly bentMy spirit soften as they stray and play,Vouchsafed they dwell with me one single dayWell mote their maglck make my Woes relent.By power of fondest-loving sentimentMine importuning Ills would end for aye ;Or would their Accident such growth displayThat Life had ended in a twinkling spent.

SONNETS. 167All ! did thy coyness not to me denyThy visloned charms, O Nymph thou loveliest,The hand-work of thine eyes had done me die !Oh, would they linger at thy will IHow blestWould be the moment when I mote espyMy life in them restored, restored my rest !CCXIV.M) bastava que Amor furo, y ardiente^(Spanish : two deaths to his life, his love and her hate),Was't not enough that Love, who purely brent,With these conditions hath my life efface'd ;But e'en must Death and Doom in hottest hasteDeal me such unhum&nest accident ?My Soul ne'er claimed, though much she may resent ?To cut the rigorous course that Love has trace'd,That mote She never die nor ever tasteUnlove of what she loved with sweet intentBut your strong Will, that can all Wills defeatWith these your graces, deigned for me ordainHarshness impossible, unheard, unknown :That scornful ague and Love's fever-heatOf ire, with single blow fro* me have taneOne lifebytwo-fold different Deaths overthrown.

1 68 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.ccxv.Ayudame> Senora, a(Spanish : by D. Manoel de Portugal?).Aid !me, my Ladye some revenge to wreakOn Sprite so savage, mind so rude, so base,Sithence my scanty worth, my lowly caseTo thee dared soar, and hope of thee bespeak :To this Perfection thine we vainly seek,To these thy heights sublime of charms and grace,Where Nature raised her once to pride of place,But where to rise once more her trust Is weak.Whatso In thee I contemplate so Heve,With contemplation lacking thy consent^More contemplating less of hope 1 7 joy.If thou to revel In my pains be bentRain on me wrath, deign Love with Unlove grieveI lo'e thee more the more thou workest annoy.CCXVI.O daras aguas desfe blando rio,(Spanish : by Diogo Ramires Pagan ?).Clear-welling waters of this stilly rill,Whose mirror palnteth In their natural dyesFrondiferous graces splreing to the skiesFrom blurred forest based on swelling hill.So ne'er cold Rain-storm, never South-wind chillPerturb the picture in their turbid guise,For to preserve them e'en through summer driesI will their wastage with these tears refill,

SONNETS. 169And when Marfisa views my form in you,Then may my figure, lorn of life and light,To her clear eyesight framed and formed be ;And if she would for me your view unview,(Showing my sight offends her) may her sightOn pain of seeing me not, herself not see.CCXVILMil wses entre suefios tufigura,(Spanish. : by Francisco de Sa de Miranda ?).Amid a thousand dreams thy portraiture(0 lovely Nymph !) I viewed with clearest eye ;And, more desiring as I more espy,Fro* dreams I'd wake to 'joyIts formosure :While this my Dreamery's sweetness shall endureÎn vain possession's barren boast live I :But when my bold Desire would soar so high,It wakes, falls plat and cowers In shade obscure.I grieve at waking for the sight o' thee ;And, tho jniy sight to unsee may please thee most,I'd lief go blind to see the light o 7 thee ;But If by sleight I must maintain my post,And Love would lose me by despight o 7thee,Sans gain the greatestI may not be lost.

170 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.CCXVIII.Mi Giisto y tu JBddad $e desfosaron,(Spanish : this by Camoens, or by Dr. Ayres Plnel ?),My Gust thy Beauty made a covert-feme,Mine Eyes, for greater III, being Go-between :And such the joyaunce of the twain hath been,They bore a Ioi r ely bairn and Love his name.Both spoiled him In mode so misbecameThat, when their happiness seemed most serene,Scant understanding what the loss could mean,Lost by their love they found them, Sire and Dame.But Beauty married In such fallacy,Brought forth a two-winged monster of appal ;And Pride, his father, 'gat Chllde Jealousy.O Father equal to thy Son In all IWho gars the immortal Grandsire mortal beAnd gives the mortal Sire immortal Hall ?CCXIX.Si elfiiego que me indende, consumido(Spanish. Cf. Eclogue V. 36-7),An the fierce flames that fire nie could be laidBy some Aquarius of a sprite more spry ;An I were changed by the sighs I sighTo air dispersed through the airy stead \If hearing horrible sounds of dread, my dreadCould 'fright my spirit from my flesh to fly ;Or sea receive from ever-weeping eyeA body molten by the tears it shed ;

SONNETS. 171Never could irous Fortune so iilude(With every terror horrible and fere)My sprite, and all her glory from her rive.For In your Beauty she is merged, transmew'd,Nor all the tears that trill to Stygian mereCould fro* my memory either boast outdrive.ccxx.Que me quereys, perfetuas saudades f(Portuguese : the Tristia again. Cf. Sonn. 93).Of me what seek you. Thoughts that alway yearn ?What are the snaring Hopes you hold in store ?Time who once Heeth shall return no moreAnd if return he, Youth may not return.Years a !good reason for your flight we learnFor-that so lightsome, lightly pass ye o'er ;Nor ail are equal in one flavour, norShall Will for ever things conform discern.The friend I loved erst is now so changedWell nigh to other ;for the Days this wiseThe gusts of youthtide damaged and deranged.Hopes of new pleasures* joys of novel guise.Nor Fortune grantetfi, nor doth Time estranged,Who of Content and Happiness are the spies.

172 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.CCXXLOh rigurosa ausenda desejada(Spiritus promptus est 3&c. Petrarch, I* 174).O rigorous Absence I so longed to seeAnd ever longed for while 'twas all unknown !Longings so feared In the days long flown,As now experienced to my misery !Already you 've begun right rigorouslyTo press your hopes of doing my life undone ;You do so much, I fear that woe-begoneHope, with my Life opprest, shall cease to be.The Days most gladsome bring me saddest wail ;The Nights In sorrow watch I and discornpt ;Sans you appear they sans accompt or tale.I wait a-famlshed, and the years accompt ;Natheless with life of me, In fine, theyfail ;Nor for my flesh infirm my Soul is promptAy !CCXXII.quien dard a mis ojos una fuente(Spanish ; Jeremiah's Quis dabit, &c. Ch. 9).Who shall give a fountain to these eyne,Ah !A fount of tear-flood flowing night and day ?Perchance my Soul had found some rest and stayIn weeping passed time and present syne.Ah ! Who shall lend me place apart to pine,Tracking my Dolour's trail In obstinate way5With tristful Memories and the PhantasyO" Weal that fathered such an 111 as mine !

SONNETS. 173Ah ! Who shall give me words to express the spight,The hard Unlove which Love for me hath wrought,Where Patience scantly can avail my plight ?Ah I Who shall bare my bosom's eiled iy thought ?Where is the Secret writ that shuns the light,The hidden sorrows all mv life have fraught ?CCXXIILCon razon os rays, aguas, faiigando(Spanish : by the Marquess of Astorga ?).With reason, Waters ! do ye toil and tireA glad reception's boon and bourne to gainAnd reach the bosom of that boundless MainWhereto so many days your hopes aspire.Harrow ! Whose sorrows aye weep Fortune's ire,Lost hopes of vanities the vainest vain ;And with the dolours of that tearful rainNe'er find, in fine, the goal of fond Desire.Ye the directest way-line ever spuming,Fail not the wisht-for scope and end to make,Howe'er embarrasst by the random round.But I, through night and day with grief aye yearning !Albe one pathway I may ne ? er forsake,The wisht-for Haven never never found.

*74 LYR1CKS OF CAMOENS.CCXXIV.O cesseya, Senor, tu dura mano /(Spanish : Cf. Cannon IV. 4).Lighten at length, Lord Love, that heavy hand !Nor drive my life to Life's extreme despightSuffice so wasted bides itby thy mightNot one sound passage may in itAh, strangest Formosure !be scann'd.Ah, fere commandOf Fate inhuman aye forbidding flight1An of compassion be deprived thy spriteSnapt thou shall see, soon see, my vital strand.A bland Unlove, a Love as blandly fair,For one so utter lost were fit, were meetFor one who ne'er may hope his 111 to guarish.And if to see how fare I scant thou care,Behold me here surrendered at thy feetFlourish thy Fancy ; Go 31my Hope go perish.CCXXV.Ditlces engaiios de mis ojos tristes ;(Spanish : to a likeness of Ills lover ?).Ye douce Delusions of my doleful eyes,What lively sense of Thought in me ye awake !That only presence my Content could makeYou turn to shadowy Painture's shadowy dyes,You have entendefd with a soft surpriseMy feelings mastered by a sudden quake ;Yet not one moment for your promise sakeThose vainly proffered boons you made my prize.

SONNETS* 175I saw the figure was a counterfeit.Not hers who hideth In herself my Soul,Tho* here it rival with the natural :This wise it hears my sighs, thus answers it ;Thus with my wabted life it doth condole.As though the copy were the original.CCXXVLQuanta tientpo Jm qite ttoro an din(Spanish ; written Curing the first exile ?).How long one tristfulday shall I bewailAs though I hoped joy mylife to cheer ?How is it, Tagus whenas course thy clear!Waters, thou dyedst them not mylife to swale ?Veiling my path thou dost my breast unveil,O my sad Fortune of my weal so near !Adieu ye Mounts of rarest beauty sheer ;Adieu my heart that may not burst for bale.If, where thou dwellest lief and lot-content,Thou hadst not drunk a draught of Lethe-drainÎn so much Weal such Woes were not forgot,Singing my Dolours shall my death lament ;For e'en the senseless Hill with hollow strainSoundeth hoarse accents to console my lot.

176 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.CCXXVILLevanfay, minhas Tagides, a/rente,(To Dom Tlieodosio. Cf. Sonn. 20).High raise your glorious brows, my Tagides !Leaving where Tagus forest-shaded flows :Gild ye the roiy vale, the dewy roseAnd hill-side hairy with the hanging trees.Awhile In absence leave your river-leas ;Cease with the numbered verse the lyre to arouse :Cease allyour labours, Nymphs of formous brows ICease the full current from your fountain flees.Speed ye to greet Theodosio great and clear,To whom In offering of sublimer songOn golden harp fair-faxt Apollo sings.Minerva lends him (rarest meed) her lere ;Pallas lends Valour which adaws the throng ;And Fame fro ?Pole to Pole his rumour wings.CCXXVIILVbs 2\"infas da Gangetica espessura(To the Captain D. Leonlz Pereira, In 1568).You Nymphs who grace Gangetlck coverture !In voice sonorous deign sweet praise to outpourFor the high captain, whom the rosy AuroreSaved from the tarnisht sons of Night obscure.Mustered the Negro-hordes who, dour and dure,Lord Iton Aurea-Chersonesian shore,From dearest nide to outdrive for evermoreMen who in might excel Misaventure. *

But a strong Lyon, with small company.The mighty Manye, fon as fere In light,Defeated , Teebled, punisht and unmanned.!Nymphs sing ye joyous songs, for clear you seeMore than Leonidas for Graecia dightDid noble Leoniz in Malaca-land.CCXX1X.Alma gentil, que a fir me Eterntdade(On Dom A. rle Noronha, Cf. Sonn. 12),Gent Sou! ! that unto firm EternityBy valour rising, home for aye didst make,Here shall endure, and Memory ne'er forsake.Our pain and pine with name and fame of thee.I n'ote if in such Youth more wonderous beTo leave man jealous for thy valour's sake ;Or if an Adamant-breast, or tooth of Drake*Thou hadst compelled to pay Compassion's fee.Jealous of thine a thousand lots I view,While mine is jealouser than all therest,Fer-that my loss thy loss thus equalleth.Oh happy dying! Sort so sadly blest !What thousand ordinary deaths ne'er doThou didst with derring-do of one fair Death,f+yricks

jy8LYRTCKS OF CAMOENS.ccxxx.Debaxo desta pedra, sepultada(Epitaph on Dona Caterina?).She lies ensepulchred below this stoneWhose noblest beauty was a World-delight ;Whom Death of merest envy and despight,From Life-tide robbed ere her day was done ;Nowise respecting her, that paragonOf gentlest radiance, who the gloomiest nightTurned into clearest noon ;whose whitest lightEclipst the clearest splendours of the Sun.Truly Sol bribed thee, thou cruel Death !To set him free fro ? radiance gart him gloom ;Bribed thee the Moon who paled before her ray.How haddest thou such power to rob her breath ?And, if thou haddest, how so soon couldst doomA World-light fade and vade to death-cold clay ?CCXXXLImagens vaas me imprime a Fantasia ;(By the Infant Dom Luiz ?).In me vain fancies Fancy would inlay ;Novel discourses all my Thoughts invent ;And more my woe-wrung Spirit to tormentCares of a century pack in single day.Had Thought high object, sooth it were to sayHope might discover on what base she lent :But Fate ne'er courses with so true intentThe rights of Reason she will deign to weigh.

SONNETS. 179Chance led by Fortune oftentimes succeedetli ;But an, peraunter, deal they boons victoriousFavour of Fame for falsehood Is notorious.Determination Wisdom's worth exceedeth :Only by constancy man groweth glorious:Only free Souls are digne to be memorious.CCXXXII.Quanta incerfa esperanca^ quanta engano !(4 *Catholic verities ?? ).How much of doubtful Hope, how sly a snare !How much of Life in lying reverie spent !For all fare building with the same intentOnly on bases where to loss they fare :They strive thro* doubtful human life to steer ;They trust in words that be mere windy vent ;Then through long hours and moments they lamentThe gladdest laughter of a live-long year.Ne'er let Appearance worth of aught enhance ;Intend that Life is but a borrowed store ;For the world liveth in a change of chance.Then change thy sentiments, be thy care forlore,And aye love only that one EsperanceWhich with the Loved One lasts evermore.N

I SoLYRICKS OF CAMOENS.CCXXXIILJlfa/ 3 que de tempo em tempo Tas crecendo ;(By the Infante Dom Luis?).Ills ! that fro' time to time so crescive grow ;Would by one Good I saw you 'companied !Then should my life-term in repose abide,Nor feel one fear to sight Death's horrid show.of woeIf man his petty cares to sighsConvert, and if the sighs new cares provide,Ah me how prudent! O how fortifiedWeaving his bay-wreath he thro' life shall go !3Tis time we unremember past Content,Past with the hopes of joyaunce ever past,And overtriumph'd by a new Intent :May living Faith, that holds my Spirit fast,To caduque derring-do a term presentWhereto past Welfare doomed itself at lastCCXXXIV.O quanta nielhor he o supremo dia^(Cupio dissolvi, &a).O how far better man's supremest Day,Douce day of death, than birth-tide's bitter boon !O how far better is the moment's swoonThat ends so many a year of agony ICease to seek other Weals in stubborn way ;Cease all applied end of Thoughts high-flown,Of all that gives contentment one aloneMan's flesh contents, his couch of death-cold clay.

SONNETS.iSlWho doth the Godhead as his steward hold,The strictest reckoning must before Him set :Then shall the Shepherd fill the fullest foldSad he that when his latest hour Is told,Hath for his only payment alien sweat,Since for a money-price his soul he sold !CCXXXY.Como podes (o Kgo Pwcador f)(A. Sermon-sonnet).How canst (O Sinner blindly gone astray !)Prolong thine errors taking scanty tent - }Knowing one Moment sees our life-tide spent,A span compared with Eternal Day ?Deem not the Jodge whose justice none gainsayShall spare for sinners torturing punishmentNor lapse of Time, albe his steps are lent,Death-day of horriblest terror shall delay.Cease then to squander hours ? days, months and yearsIn seeking friendship with thy foeman, 111 ;Friendship that greater crop of Evil bears.And, since of such deceits thou knowest thy fill,For Truth now fly these snares of hopes and fearsAnd pray His pardon with thy humblest will.

1 82 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.CCXXXVI.Verdade, Amor, Razao, Meredmento*(A second Sermon-sonnet).Verity, Amor, Reason, MeritmentShall dower with strength and bravery any sprite,.But Time, Mischances, Fate and Fortune's mightO'er this confused world hold regiment.Thousand Effects In brooding thoughts are pent,While Cause remains unknown to human sight:But know that more than Life and Death no wightCan learn by height of man's Intendiment.Here shall wise Barons high-flown reasons give ;Yet 'tisExperience 'proves herself most apt;And thus much-seeing is the safest test.Here things may happen wherein none believe :And things believed are that never haptBut CHRIST'S belief Is ever bestest bestCCXXXVII.De Babd sobre os rios nos sentamos^(Second Babylonian Sonnet : Cf. Sonn. 194).On Babylon-waters sunk in woe sat we,From our douce Home-land ever banishedWith grounded eye and hands on face bespread,We wept and pining, Zlon !remembered thee.Our Harps we hanged on the willow-tree,Harps that in other day rare musick shed :Other the days forsure and other dread ;Our Harps we quit to quit sad memory.

SONNETS. 183They, who had carried off the Captive-throng,Bade us upraise a merry-hearted strain :uSing ye (they say us) hymns of Zion-hill ! "On such wrong-doing heaped they sorer III,When foes demanded with tyrannick wrongThey sing and carol that would weep and 'plain.CCXXXVIILSobre os rios do Reyno escuro^ quando(Same subject. Cf. Redondilhas, I.).When, on the Rivers where the black Reign lies,Saddened by sorrows for our sins ordainedjFrom banisht eyrie hot tears in floods we rained*And sighed we, Holy Zion ! for thee our sighs:They who our souls Infested tyrant-wise,And, aye in error, us their thralls enchained ;Vainly our psalms and songs to order deigned.When all were silent in our miseries.Upstood we saying u Howso chaunt our :lay,Canticles grateful to a God benign.When thus His foemen we perforce obey ? "But now, sole Holy Lord 'tis my ! design,Leaving of vile extremes the all-vicious way,Henceforth to chaunt the Chaunts of Love Divine,

J 84LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.CCXXXIX,Em Babylonia sobre os rios^ quando(Same subject).When by the Rivers Babylon doth rail,Thou Holy ZIon ! we remembered thee,There sat we pine-full pains of Thought to dreeAnd 'parted happiness (hapless !)to bewail.Leaving the Harps that here of muslck failOur hands up-hanged them on strange willow-treeWhen of the songs we sang (Thy psalmody)Insisting foemen fain would hear the tale.This wise spake we the squadded hostile throngs :"How can we sing, in homeless land astray,Our songs to Him, His sacred holy songs ? "If I forgot thee best and only stay,(My single solace here in sorest wrongs)Oblivioni detur dextra mea*CCXL.Aponfa e bella Aurora^ Litz primeira,(Immaculate Conception," quasi Aurora consmgens ''},Breatheth the fair Aurora, primal SheenThat brought high tidings of that clearest Day ;Busk ye and boun ye, Hearts in !glad arrayAnd welcome Her, Life's Messenger ye ween.For our Redemption born is a Go-betweenThy joy, O Heavenly Kingdom! haste display;Soon shalt thou hallow earth with heavenly sway,Soon shall from Heaven our fete by Thee be seen.

SONNETS.185Marvelleth Nature such pure work to sense \Shudder with fear confused the Realms Infernal^Seeing Her born exempt fro ?Sin's offence.'Twos general Law that ruled thro 3 Time's Eternal *,But He, the Lord of Law, pure Excellence^For Sanctuary guarded thee. Maternal.CCXLI.Porque a Terra, no Ceo se agasat/iasse,(The Incarnation* Cf. Sonn. 299).That Earth in Heaven mote asylum findGod for a Heaven on Earth asylum fand :There not containing, here a place He planrTd,For He more largeness There from Here design'd.That by the Godhead rise to God mankindFor men the Godhead deigned to be enmann'd :So lowered His height divine to human standThat mote the human grow to be divine'd.Look what gave He and what we gave in lieu :Ne'er fade such blessing fro' man's heart memorious :He gave us boon of life ;His life we slew.He changed for pains of sin His reign all-glorious ;He dealt us Triumphs which to Him were due ;Love was the Doer of such Deed victorious.

1 86 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.CCXLII.Que estila a Arrore sacra ?Hum licor santo.(The Crucifixion : an Amcebsean)."A Saintly tear."What drips the Holy Tree?For whom"? For all who be of human strain."What use hath It?" Tis medicine sovereign."Wherefore?" For worldly sins and weeping drear."How mayIt work? "To Luzbel mighty fear."Why so? " Because his apple bred such bane."What bane? "With single snare he saw us slain."Hath it such power? "Such power right clear wespeer."Who goes up-Cross ?" He that from Heaven camedown."[invade."Came down and"why ? That Man high HeavenWhat then"ofEarth would He ?- In Heaven to 'thronerLeads there a ladder ?" Yea, securely stay'd."" Victorious Love alone."Who obliged Him ?What loved this Maker thus? "The thing Hemade."CCXLIILOh !Anna unicamente so triunfanfe,(Of Dom Sebastiam's Banner? Cf. Sonn. 351).Oh one and only Arm, victorious Vaunt,And single Valvarte of the lives of men,Whereby our losses gained purest gain,Losses that joyed Tartarus' horrid haunt !Follow the Church's Banner militant,Which to such holy victories can attain.For hosts of spirits, weaned from errors vain.Here overwander Ponent, there Levant.

SONNETS.187O Tree Sublime, with marquetry engrail'dOf white and cramoisie and patinc'd gold,With richest rubin crusted and amailPdAnd deckt with Trophies of a worth untold !Death to Life dealt in Thee our eyne beheld.That Life-in- Death we might thro' Thee behold.CCXLIV.Aos homces hum so Homem pos espanto,(Sam Joam Baptista ; venit ia testlmonltim j.One Man man's nature with high marvel pranktjPrankt with such marvel for humanity,,Mortal as man yet Angel-pure was He,For-that with saintly souls ere born He rankt.He was a Prophet when in womb enflankt ;Amid the highmost high was his degree,Who (without seeing) the Great Light could see,Having for Tromp the Logos Sacrosanct.He was that Voice, whose loud canorous callRang through the concave of the resonant sphere ;Twas his the Sinless Body to baptise ;His Ear the Father's loving Voice could hear ;He to the subtle question, mystical,Gave gentling answer in sincerest guise-

1 88 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.CCXLV.Vbs so podeys, sagrado Evangelista,(To the discipulus quern dibgebat, & r c.).You only, consecrate Evangelist!Angel of love-brent Seraph-origin ;And in all kenning to the Cherubs kin,Could be of learnedest Love the AnnalistDivine and Kingly Erne ! whose glances wistOne Who was endless and did ne'er begin ;Of Jacob best beloved Benjamin,Prower than Joseph in the champion's list.Apostle-envoy, Prophet, Patriarch ;Who from the Prince of Heaven most favour won ;And, on His bosom sleeping, most could sight.You whom the Godhead marked with brother-mark ;You of the perfect Mother chosen Son,Enjoy the clearest day in flesh and sprite !CCXLVLComo louvarey eu, Serafim santo,(St. Francis of Assist).How shall I, holy Seraph hymn the !praiseOf such humility, such penitence ?Chastity, Povert, Patience so immense,In these mine artless, unadorned lays ?Theme which the Muses' very choir affrays,Dumbing most eloquent grandiloquence.O Species dight by Holy ProvidenceWho Self for weal so great in you displays.

SONNETS. 189You, of the Saintly Brethren rarest mine,Sent thousand thousand Souls to heavenly goalFrom a lost world you healed sound and whole ;You stole not only with your learned lineThe wills of mortals, but the Will Divine,When His five Rubies from His Wounds you stole.CCXLVILDitosas A/maSj que ambas juntamente(Epitaph on husband and wife. )Ye happy Spirits! who at once in twainFlew to the sky of Love, the Venus-sky,Where Goods enjoyed here with joys that fly,Enjoy ye now with joys that e'er remain.That so contented state ye held so fain,Whose brief endurance was its sole annoy,Now you have changed for more joyous joy,Whose bliss aye waxing ne'er shall wan nor wane.Sad he that here must live his life begirtBy lover-finenesSj by Love's agoniesWhose growth of glory groweth greater grief!Sad ! for my sufferings ne'er my pains appease ;And Love has dealt me, for a sorer hurt,A life so large for Evil so unlief.

190 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.CCXLVIILContente mvija, vendome isento(Written for a friend ?).Content I lived erst, when seeing me freeFrom Ills I saw bewailed by their prey :They clepe him Love, I clepe him other wayDiscord, Unreason, Warfare, Misery.The name bewitched every Thought of me,Who by such name could fail to fare astray ?Now am I such, I dread to see the dayWhen naught of suffering I am doomed to see.With long despairing and a longing spriteHe pays the sorrows I for him must brook,And e'en mine Evils ill his heart can rest,Then, on so many IllsI still must sight(To deal me thousand more) an angel look,And not to heal them an enhardened breast.CCXLIX.Deixa Apolo o correr tad apressado^(Application unknown).Forego* Apollo, thy so hasty course ;Chase not the Nymph whose pride is sans Compare :Leads thee not Love, thy leader is a snareWhich brings with shadowed weal woes doubly worse.And granted Love it were, 'twere love by force ;And if 'tis forced 'twill misfortune bear,Then spare a semblance, more than mortal fair,Nor see a treen shapeits charms encorse.

SONNETS. 191Nil! thou to forfeit for one vain ContentThe sight that maketh all thy life contented :In thine own favour moderate thine Intent :Less evil 'tis, with her to sight presented,To dree her coyness and thy pains lament.Than feel the loss of her for aye absented.CCL,JVas Cidades^ nos bosque$, nas Jlarestas,(To Our Lady of the Martyrs, at Punhete ?).In basque and forest, in the mart and meet,In vales, on wooded mountain-range thy praiseShepherds shall ever sing with tuneful lays,Thro* coolth of morning, through the noontide-heat.And in this Temple, where thou dost repeatThe boons thou dealest in thy blessed ways,With Psalm and Hymn and floral Wreaths thy DaysThy Holy Days mankind ne'er fail to greet!These offer hands, those feet before thy Fane ;Those on thine altars hang a votive storeOf deep-sea monster and the prison chain.But I my cares, my snares, my ban, my bane,(Horrider monsters) and a myriad more,Bring thee for gifts wi' Longings longed In vain.

192 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.CCLLVi qtteixos&s de Amor mil namorados^(Petrarch: femmina e cosa mobil. Parti. Sonn. 131).I saw a thousand lovers Love betwyte,None saw I ever give dear Love his due :And whoso loudest loves at Love to shrewI see the latest fro' his cares take flight:If an Love's dolours do you such, despiteWhy thus Love's dolours do you seek and sue ?And, if Love's dolours you as favours view,Why are they dolours by you lovers hight ?Think not to find of joyaunce smallest boonIn Love, for sadness is his life and law ;In smiling Fortune when her Smiles you see.In Him and Her I fand the self-same Moon,A Moon whose constancy the world ne'er sawSave the consistentest inconstancy.CCLILSe lagrimas choradas de verdade(Cf. Eclogue V. 10).If tears in torrents and in truth beshedCould soften marble howso dour and dure,Why should not mine begot of Love so pureQuicken a bosom to compassion dead ?For you my freedom. Dame I I forfeited,Nor of my properlife I live secure :Break of your cruel will the castled mure ;Nor let your rigour to extremes be sped.

SONNETS. 193To prize desplsal make, in fine, a fine :None call you Cruel, name to her well dueWho the fon sigh-full lover flouts to shame.Teach, then, your stony breast some ruth to rueIn what regards you ; 'tis no right of mine :For I adventure Life you Venture name.CCLIILJa me fundey en vaos contentamentos(Autobiographic).Erst upon vain Contents I based my mindWhen lived I wholly snared by the snareOf one phantastick Good, of single CareCared for by nothing save by Thought struck blind.Through days and hours and moments I repine'dThis load of guiling Love's sore weight to bear.For I held only him as Fortune's heirWho for Love only oftest drank the Wind.But now that true account I come to know,I am wholly undeceived of his deceit jFor Time gives all things, Time shall all discoure.Least shall the fullest Love his brim o'erflow ;His joys are richest (this I ne'er did weet)Whoso of Love-wealth lives the poorest poor.l*yricks

194 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.CCLIV,Em huma lapa, toda tenebrosa,(A Scherzo : written for a friend ?).Deep In a cavern gloomed with gathered night,Where beat the billows raging wild and wood,With hand supporting cheek (as saw I) stoodA Nymph of gentlest mien in care-full plight :As black in mourning as in beauty bright,Her eyne distilled seed o'pearl in flood jAnd briny ocean stayed his boisterous moodA thing so sightly and so woe to sight.At whiles she viewed the horrid steepy HeadWith her soft eyne, whose glance of sweetest lureSufficed his stony core with care to melt.And in her angel-voice at length she said :" Ah me, how oft they most lack AventureTo whom Dame Nature most of merit dealt/'CCLV.Se em mim (6 Alma) vive maes lembranca(Sufistical).If in me other memory live, O Sprite!Of aught beyond my boast of lo'ing you,Lost be the joys I J joy when viewing youAnd lose I even Hope to see your sightBe seen in me so coy and rustick wightThat undeserves to boast of knowing you ;May the more good I would be doing youOnly offend you If I change my plight.

SONNETS. 195I stand confirmed and this fact maintain ;By your most cruel will my love be weighed ;On me your harshness proveits hard disdain.A Truth so truthful I to heart have laidSithence in plighted troth of purest strainWhat Will I had your tributary I made.CCLVLTlustre Gratia, nombre de una(Spanish : Parody of Garcilasso : Sonn. 24),Illustrious Gracia ! name of Spinster known,First-come of witches, and alike in caseTo Mondonedo, Palma, limping Thrasse,The magick mitre ever digne to don.If in the middle of the Church have shownThe veil (down-falling) your all-shameless face,Of you shall clamour all men, high and base," See how the Devil wantoneth with"his own IShe moveth mountains fro' their 'stablished stead ;Her words the courses of the tides command ;Her spells through sea-waves drive a dry footway.Blusheth her birthplace and rich Tage runs red,Who for her beareth more of man than sand.So shall large tribute some to Hell defray.o 2

196 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.CCLVILQual tern a borbokta por costume,(The Poet and the Moth).Even as Nature's lire the Night-moth dooms,Allured and spell-bound by the taper's light,To wheel in thousand gyres until her flightNow in cremation ends, now self consumes :So run I to the ray my Soul illumes,Fired, fair Aonia !by this eyen-lightAnd burn me, howsoe'er my cautious spriteTo free the rational part of me presumes.I know man's Sight for a daring visionist ;How high the human Thought will soar and strain :And how my life to death I surely gave.But Amor wills not any him resist,Nor my soul wills it,which in torment-painE'en as in greater gloire is glad to live.CCLVIII.Lembranfas de meu bem, doces lembran$as,(Written by Martim de Crasto ?).Memories of happiness mine ! douce MemoriesThat aye so lively in my Soul remain,Crave ye no more of me, for all the gainI gained you see how Charge has made her prize.Ay blindfold Love !Ay Hope's dead vanitiesThat could in other days my strength sustain !Now shall you leave him who endured your painAnd every trust shall fly with Life that flies.

SONNETS. 197Yea, trust shall fly with Life,since AventureStole in one moment all that Boast so gloriousWhich, grown to greatest growth, shall least endure.Oh ! would Remembrance fleet with joys memorious,At least my spirit mote abide secureWith her to win a victory more victorious.CCLIX.Fermosos olhos,que cuidado days(Carpe diem. Cf. Garcilasso : Sonn. 5).Beautiful eyes which deal an envious careTo very light of Sunshine purest pure!That Sol's all-fairest sheeniest formosureYou leave surpast with splendour sans Compare.If an ye flout (for that ye shine so fair)Love's fineness, ever lief your heart to 'lure,See now, sith much you see, may not endureYour charms resplendent as you would they were.Pluck, pluck of fleet-foot Time, the fugitive,And of your beauty, fairest doucest fruitIn vain desired ere full-ripe itgrew.To me, who die for you, for you who live,Make Love pay tribute due to loving suit,Happy to pay the tax was due to you.

igBLYRICKS OF CAMOENS.CCLX.Pues siempre sin cessar,mis ojos tristes,(Spanish : to a dame who sent him a tear 'twixt two plates).My lamentable Eyne when aye ye wone!Tearfully treating night and treating day,See an be this true Tear that doth conveyThat Sun which oft tide made you shed your own-If you assure me that your sight have shownThe Tear a Tear, 'twill be my sort and stay ȳAnd, from this hour, Til hold in wisest wayWere shed the many shed for her alone.But whatsoever thing much coveted,Tho* we behold it, fails our faith to gain ;Much less this mister thing ne'er 'magined.Still I assure you, though the Tear you feign.Enough the Tear to me for Tear you spedThat I this Tear for Tear shall e'er maintain,CCLXI.Tern feito os olhos neste(By Pedro da Cunha?).apartamentoHave shed these eyelids, in this banishment,Of after-yearnings a tempestuous sea,Which added pining to the pine of meAnd upon sentiment heaped sentiment.My sufferings turn to pangs which aye torment,Pity is turned to pitiless penalty ;And so is Reason wrecked by Will that sheEnslaves to Evil mine intendiment

SONNETS. 199Tongue ne'er attaineth what the Soul can sense ;And so, ifany wish at any hourTo ken what bin uncomprehended Grief,Leave he his lover, and experienceThat before parting I had lesser stowreTo part from living better to have Life.CCLXII.A Peregrinafao de hum pensamento(By Martim de Crasto ?).The Pilgrimaging of a Thought intent,Which of mine 111 makes habit and costume,Doth of my sorry life so much consume.As grow the causes that my soul torment.By grief of suffering sufferance goeth spent ;But so isspent my Soul no lights illume,That wrapt in Weal whereto she dares presume*Of Evils hent in hand she takes no tentAfar I feared (as though could Fear protect)What dangers drumming at the door I see,When in me nothing find I safe or sure.But now I reck (O never had I reckt I)That man's poor wits in Love's captivity,Save cure of Fortune ne'er shall know a cure.

200 LYEICKS OF CAMOENS.CCLXIILAchome da Fortuna salteado^(By Martim de Crasto ?).I find me waylaid by that bandit Fate ;Time fleeth flitting with his fleetest flight,own lightLeaving me doubtful of my life'sAnd every moment driven more desperate.To Care so care-full changed my careless State ;Where gloire is greatest groweth grisliest blight :Nor live I fearing loss with aught affright,Nor for regain of me in trust I wait.Whatever bird abide in wildest hill,Whatever bestial in his lair repose,All have glad hours ;mine all are sad with spleen.You, Eyne !aye pining by your proper will(For Love defrays me with his torment-woes)Weep when you see the scene your sight hathseen.CCLXIV.Se no qm tenho dito vos offendo^(F. y S. ends. ByDr. Alvaro Vaz?).If aught I haply said your heart offend,'Twas no desire of mine in aught to offend you ;For though my merits ne'er pretence pretend you,Ne y er to dismerit you will I pretend.But sure my Fate is such (as I intend),Whate'er I gained striving to intend you.Hereto hath never made me comprehend you.For I my proper self misapprehend.

SONNETS. 201The Days, with aidance lent by Aventure,Each man and every from illusion wean ;While misadventure undeceives no fewer.Which better serves me may declare my teenwhile endureOr joys I erst enjoyed,This life so large that years so few hath seen.PART(Nos. 265-301).CCLXV.II.Doce contentamento jet, pass ado >(Autobiographic) .Sweetest Content that was with joys that were.Wherein consisted all the Weal I knew ;Who thus your dear companionship withdrewAnd left me lonesome far fro'you to fare ?Who reckt to see him in this state of careWhile those brief hours by joyaunce feathered flew.When giglet Fortune gave consent I viewMy cares full feeding upon sleight and snare ?My Fortune 'proved her coy and cruel elf,She caused my losses, she and only sheFrom whom all caution were but wasted pains.Nor let created thing deceive itself,No sort prevention man shall ever freeTo fly those evils which his star ordains.

202 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.CCLXVI.Sempre, cruel Senhora, receei^(Complaining of infidelity).Ever, my cruel Falre with fear I 1strave,Your un-trust viewing with a meting glance,Lest grow to' Unlove your tardy dalliance ;Lest, since I love you, self I fail to save.Perish, in fine, whate'er Hope bade me crave,Since you on other love build esperance :Now shall so puissant be your change and chanceAs ever hid I what to you I gave.I gave you life and sent ; I gave my sprite ;O'er all this me I gave you lordship-power ;You promise love and promised love deny.Now am I such wise, so forlorn of plight,but some hourI ken not whither wend I,Heavy on you shall this remembrance lie.CCLXVII.Portuna em mim guardando seu direito(Autobiographic).Fortune o'er me reserving rightful HestIn green my Joyaunce joyed to cast away.O how much Happiness ended on that dayWhose sad Remembrance burneth in my breast !All contemplating, my suspicion guess'dFor Weal so pleasant this surcease must payLest every worldling say and truly sayThat world-deceits can breed of Weals the best

SONNETS. 203But an my Fortune (to discount me bent)Dealt me such Blessing and such Sentiment lent meOf Memory, only to destroy me lent ;How then can blame me Suffering this wise sent me.If the same cause it useth to torment,I hold best cause to bear what Ills torment me ?CCLXVIII.Se a Fortnna inquieta, e mal olhada,(Answer to one who praised Mm).If aye-unquiet Fortune evil-eyed,Loving the justest laws of Heaven to infame.That quiet life, which doth her Unlove claim,Would grant me, 'joying honest restful tide :Haply my Muse by happiness glorifiedIn light more ardent, in a livelier flame,Our Tagus bedded in his patrial frameWith lilt of lyre beloved had lullaby'd:But since my Destiny, dealing toil and moilThat dark my weakling Muse so weary faring,Doth to such high-toned praise deny consent ;Then let your Muse, of generous laud unsparing,Seek other subject of a higher coil,And to the admiring World yourself present.

204 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.CCLXIX.JZste amor que vos tenho limpo,(" Worth half The Lusiads," said Bocage).This Love for you I keep so chaste and pure,No touch of villein purpose can abate,Dating from tenderest age his earliest date,I strive this only in this soul endure.That it shall nowise change I wone secure,Sans fear of any freak or false of Fate,Or Good supremely good, or sorriest state,Or Present safe, or Future aye unsure.Fast fades the Daisy and the flowers go die,Winter and Summer strew them all a-field,For my love only 'tis eternal May :But, Ladye !seeing you every grace deny,And seeing your thankless heart no favour yield,My love misleads me lost in sore dismay.CCLXX.Se grande gloria me vem s6 de olhar-te,(Variant of No. 148).If be my greatest glory but to view thee,5Tis grief unequal when my sight forlore thee ;If by my merits I presume implore thee,Full dear I pay the false desires that sue thee :If as thou art with praises I approve thee,I know that I, as I, offend before thee.If illI will me for-that I adore thee,What prize can seek I higher than to love thee ?

SONNETS. 205Extremes of love-pains these I bear so woe,Ah my sweet glory Ah my threasury I !And when I deem them gone again they grow.This wise my Memory holds one only Thee ;I n'ote an I be live or dead, I knowThat Battle's properest end be Victory.CCLXXI.A formosura desta fresco, serm,(Of Cintra, or perhaps of Ceuta).These Mountain-beauties of the freshest green,These verdant chestnuts shedding shadows chill ;The unhurried rail of many a murmurous rill,Banishing sorrow from the gladding scene :Hoarse Ocean-whispers ; regions strange, seldseen ;Sol slowly westering 'neath the horizon-hill ;The clustering flocks and herds that linger still,Cloud-armies battling in the blue Serene :In fine, whatever rarest fairest NatureOifers with prodigal show of varied store,Dealeth me (thee unseen) but sore unweal :Sans thee all 'noyeth me who all abhor ;Sans thee I feel and shall for ever feelIn greatest gladness sadness even greater.

206 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.CCLXXILSospechas^ que en mi triste phantasia(Spanish : by Garcilasso ?).Doubts that my dolorous phantasies affright !Still on my senses warfare ye declare,Stirring, re-stirring in this breast my care,And mar with cruel hand my day, my night :Now my Resistance hath forlore his might ;Now doth my Spirit her defence forbear :I own you victor, and repenting fareI ever fought you with such obstinate fight.Then bear me sudden to that awesome steadWhere not to see my doom ensculptured shown,Hereto mine eyelids strove I closed to keep.Now I ground weapons, for to hold his ownAnd hold so hard, the World a wretch forbade :Then allmy spellings on your charet heap !CCLXXIILSustenfa meu viver huma esperanto,(Suspecting infidelity).Only one single Hope my life sustainethDerived fro' single Good I so desire,For when it plighteth me a troth entireMy greatest doubt fro' smallest change obtaineth :And when this Welfare highest place attaineth,Raising my raptured Soul to height still higher,To see him win such Weal inflames my ireFor-that his Sovenance place for you disdaineth.

SONNETS. 207Thus in this net-work so enmeshed I wone,My life I hardly give, for aye sustentingA novel matter heapt on cares I own.Sighings of sadness from my bosom venting,Musick'd by whizzing shot of cannon-stone,I fare, these wretched matters still lamenting.CCLXXIV.Jd nao sinto,Senhora, os desenganos^(Another complaint of infidelity).No more, Madame !feel I false hopes and fearsWherewith your coying aye my fondness tried,Nor sight I guerdon to my love denied,Guerdon deserved by the faith of years.Lone I my loss beweep, lone shed my tears,When seeing, Ladye who my place supplied ! :But here you single-handed Avenged my prideOn your ungrateful sprite, your snares, your fleersGives double glory whatso vengeanceThe Wight offended taketh on the Offender,When satisfaction comes in righteous way:But now your coyness, yourillchange and chanceI see their vengeance-debt so fully render,E'en I pray never so high price you pay.

208 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.CCLXXV.Que pode jd fazer minha Ventura^(A Complaint: autobiographic).What now can Fortune to my lot secureThat shall have power with joy my life to grace ?Or how foundations of rny Future baseOn baseless visions evermore unsure ?What pain so certain, or what pang so dure,That can be greater than my gruesome case ?How shall to any fear my Thought give placeIf all mine evils but my Thoughts depure ?Like one who learneth in his youth the craftOf eating Poisons blent with cunning skill,Whose ancient usance breeds immunity :Thus I, accustomed to the venom-draught,And used to sufferance of my present ill,Feel naught of feeling for futurity.CCLXXVLQuando cuido no tempo^ que contente(Sufistical).As I o'ermuse times passed, when contentI saw the seed-of-pearl, snow, rose and gold,Like one who seeth vision'd Wealth untold,Meseems the Present doth my Past present ;But, in the passing of such Accident,When I so far fro'you my death behold,I fear lest every Thought ill-bode unfold,I fear lestFancy fain herself absent :

The days are many since by aventureSONNETS. 209I saw you, Ladye](an so dare I say)With eyne of heart that naught of fear could see.Now in so hapless case am I unsureE'en of my Fancy and your 'noyous way :This bin a riddle I may never ree.CCLXXVIL) Senhora, quiz amor qd amasse(Written for a friend?).When Love, my Ladye!willed that I loveThis great perfection and this gentle gree,He straight gave sentence that the crueltyWhich fillsyour bosom growth of love should prove.He willed nothing me fro 7you remove,Ne dure disfavour ne asperity ;But on my spirit rare in constancyYour cruel coyness work its will behoove.And sithence here you see me offering youThis your own Spirit for your sacrifice,Cease, cease to glut your greed of cruel WillDeem not, my Ladye !larger life my due,These ceasing Days shall die with one device,My faith defending, true and loyal still.

210 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.CCLXXVIII.ILu vivid de lagrimas isento,(Autobiographic) ,Exempt fro 3tears I wended life-tide's way,In one delightful and deceived creed ;However richer another amourist's meed,A thousand glories for one pang ne'er pay.Seeing mine inner man such thoughts obey,No Wealth an envious wish in me could breed ;Lively I lived, had of dread no heed,With doucest sentiment, Love's doucest fay.Greedy was Fortune ;straightway she bereftMy life of lightsome, glad, contented lot,And, as it never were, Weal turned to stowre :In change of which my Welfare here she leftMemories that do me dead at every hour,Bringing to memory Weals that now are not.Indo o iristeCCLXXIX.Pastor todo embebido(Subject unknown).The tristfulShepherd dolour-drowned would hieIn shadowy visions of the sweetest Sent,And to the legier windlets made lament,The while his spirit sighed its softest sigh :" To whom complain me, lost and blinded I,For sticks and stones discoure no sentiment ?Whom speak ? On whom mytale of torment vent ?Where call I loudest least is heard my cry !

SONNETS. 21 :"O lovely Nymph ? Why deign thou not respond ?Why hold so precious e'en a glance, a sight ?Why cause my querele ever 'plain my woe ?" The more I seek thee more thou dost abscond !The worse thou seest me harder sets thy sprite !Thus with mine Evil must its Causes grow."CCLXXX.De hum tad felice engenho^ produzido(Elegiacs to D. Simarn. da Silveira).That happy genius thine, begot and grownBy other, clearest Sol saw naught more bright,It suits to nourish mind wi 7Thoughts high-flownAll digne of praises, all with marvel dight,A long-gone writer was Musseus hight,A Sage and Poet allwheres man-beknownTaught by the Lover of the tuneful SpriteWho made Infernals hang his tones upon.His lay the mute-surd mountain-range could shake,Singing that 111 whereof felt I the sting,The Abydos Youngling by his wits forsake :Now tell the self-same tale (I hear them sing)Tasso and our Boscam, who both outspakeThe blinding movements of the bisson King.p 2

212 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.CCLXXXI.Dizei, Senhora^ da belleza idea ;(Half-satirical : Petrarch, Part I. Sonnet 30).Beauty's Ideal, Ladye !deign me sayFor weaving tresses of that aureate shineWhere yode you finding gold refined so fine,Fro 7 what dark mine or vein of precious ley ?Those eyne how robbed they such Phcebean ray ?Whence this grave gracious favour, empery-digne ;Or did you win them by the Lere DivineOr haply used Medea's gramarye ?Fro Jwhat sea-wombed shell did you selectThe pearls of precious Oriental beam,Shown in sweet laughing smiles that bliss andbless us ?Since you enform'd you as you did elect,Mount guard on self; shun see your sight a-stream,Fly every fountain : Ne'er forget Narcissus.CCLXXXII.JVa ribeira do Euphrates assentado^(Ecce iterum Babylonia !)I sat me lonesome on Euphrates-shore,And fand me talking things of memory,Of that brief blessing and that high degreeIn thee, sweet Zion ! I had known of yore.Asking the causes of my state forloreQuoth they "Why :singst thou not the historyOf weal that went, of that supremacyVhich o'er all Evils made thee Conqueror ?

SONNETS. 213" Knowst not man lulleth by the sound of songWoes howsoever dire and rigorous-dure ?Sing then, nor weeping thus expend thy breath "!Sighing I answered, "Whenas wax so strongMan's after-yearnings, Pity cannot cureBy voice of singing :Pity deals us death."CCLXXXIII.El vaso relusiente^ y crystalino,(Spanish : on a present of perfume : not by Camoens?).That Vial lucident and chrystalline,"Angeles-water," limpid, odorous,En wrapt in silkiest silk, and rosiest roseAnd bound with tresses from the golden mine :Right plain appeared it some Gift divine,Wrought by the Art most artful art endowsOf that blanch Nymph, whose grace more graciousshowsThan ruby blushing in the Morn's sunshine :This Vial your body figureth to the viewer,Enstreaked by members of the fairest fairAnd in its Perfume breathes your spirit pure ;The silk your blanchness showeth, and the hairMakes binding fetters ;such the ligatureThat chained my Freedom with so facile snare.

214 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.CCLXXXIV.Choral Nymfhas^ os fades -poderososBewail, ye Nymphs !(The subject unknown).the fiat of fatal mightWhich could that sovran loveliness bewray.Say whither fared (to the tomb a prey)Those Eyne so gracious lit with royal light ?O worldly welfare, snare-fraught, strong of sleight!What grief to hear that such all-lovely MayLies reft of splendour in the Grave's dure claySuch face of beauty, locks so wonder-bright !What shall to others hap, since Death had powerOver a Being of such shine and sheenEclipsing clearest rays of brightest day IBut ne'er deserved her this mundane scene.Wherefore she deigned stay on Earth no more,And to her home (the Heavens) she winged her way.CCLXXXV,Senhoraja desta alma, perdoai(Written for a friend ?).Ladye my Spirit's now liege lord ! condoneOf one Love-conquered madness-pain and pine,And with those eyes bestow one glance benignOn this pure passion by my Spirit shown.On my pure faith (naught else) your glance be thrown,See of mine Extreme woes the subtle sign ;And If of any pain you deem them digne,Avenge you, Ladye mine 1 on me alone.

SONNETS. 215Let not the grief that bums my grief-full breastCause pain and sorrow aye my bosom tearThe heart Love vassaFd e'er to do your hest.Restrain you, Ladye! lest some few declareThat in so beauteous object, rarely blest,Ingratitude to dight her dwelling dare.CCLXXXVI.Quern ws kvou de mim, saudoso estado^(Written for a friend?)*Who fro' me robbbd you, O wistful State !Which on myWho was't for whom I was so soon denied,Reason such Unreasons tried ?Forgetting all the Weal whilom so great ?You changed my resting for unresting fate,And in its cruel harshness bade me 'bide ;You have denayed me faith to me affied,When to your truth I gave the most of weightI lived withouten fear of aught so woe ;Fortune, who dealeth all by her decree.Unlove for love returned me to my cost.That naught availeth this my case I know,Man is born wailing'tis but just that hePay with his wailing what he loved and lost

21 6 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.CCLXXXVII.Diversos casos, varies pensamentos(Petrarch, I. 14).Differing cases, Thought of varied sentsSo bring confused mine Intendiment,That now in nothing see I least Content,Save when Contentments end in Miscontents.In various cases, various sentimentsBefall, for showing to our sentimentMan's aspirations are but windy ventWhen rest he painteth based on vain intents.That long discourses breed Desire we see,When comes Occasion time and tide deranging.And care unrecks Impossibility:Th' unjust one standeth where the just should be ;We view hard hills their fed: foundations changing ;I, only I, unchanged dule must dree.ccLxxxvm.Doce sonhO) suave, e soberano,(Traum Schaum. Cf. Boscam, 61).Sweet Dream of joyaunce suavest, sovereign,Would for a longer time it lasted me !Ah, had no waking spoilt my dreamery,Such disillusion, such ungain to gain !Ah Good delicious ! Ah douce snaring bane !Could I for larger space its trickery see,If then my life had fled her misery,For pride and pleasure I to die were fain.

SONNETS. 217Happy was I-not-I when visions showedThe Weal I hoped to see with broad-wake eyes.Look ye what payment doth fro' Fate befall !In fine when I-not-I such blessing owed,There was some reason for my luck in Lies,Since in the things of Truth my luck was small.CCLXXXIX.Diana prateada, esclaredda(Of the type jocose).Dian enlightened with silvern light,The light hot Phosbus to his sister lent,Being of very nature Incident,Shone forth her radiance as in mirror pight.Ten myriad million graces deckt her sight,When to mine eyes appeared that excellentRay of your proper semblance, differentIn grace and love fro 5what before was dightSuch full of favours I a-sudden seeingAnd eke, so near to being all your own.Lauded the moonlit hours, night's clear-ob scure :By night you dealt my Love his very being,Wherefore I gather clear, by night aloneAnd ne'er by day-light is myluck secure.

2l8LYR1CKS OF CAMOENS.ccxcA la en Monte Rei^ en Bal de(In Gallego dialect :to Violante, spinning).There on the Monte Rey, in Val de Lace,I saw Biolante by a river-bed,So sweet a seeing 'twas, I chilled with dreadWhen seen in mortal gear immortal grace:From long fair distaff drew my ShepherdessThe silken thread a-spinning, when I said," Behold me dying, shear my life-tide's thread ! "Quoth she, " I shear it not, pass safe apace ! ""How pass apace when here I'd wone in stead ?And if I pass (quoth I) 'tis danger pure ;For without spirit bides a body dead."" By this rny life thou robbest ! rest thou sureThou die not "Shepherd !" Shepherdess I dread ;Meseems my biding be the more secure."CCXCLPorque mefaz, amor, inda acd torto,(Gallego : to the same).Why, Love !here, even here, so work my bane ?Betide thee, shameless god, a doom as dread !Low carlish lad, a guide that so misledTo see Biolante who my life has slain.I saw her, never to see hythe again,Nor find me (hapless 1 1)a resting steadThe floods of sorrow at the Ford I shedShall proveits comfort when as lacketh rain.

SONNETS. 219aJilM^ftJôther to my sightA pitiful Mundane show^^ honesty ;.Sans-loy, false-hearted, cruel, tyra*K ous Wl & ht :For, were she other than this self-sW 16 Â kindness so unkind thou ne'er hadst>Nor she such cruel beast had been for :CCXCILj&m quanto Phebo os monies accendia(Classical).While Phoebus flamed the fells with rosy rayAnd fro' mid-Heaven rained cloudless light,To 'fend her maiden flower fro 7 bane and blight 5Delia in chasing passed the live-long day.Venus, sly threading firrnamental wayTo win Anchises' will in loving fight,Seeing Diana's honest, modest plightBy way of jeering this wise said her say :" Thou with thynet-work seekst the covertureFugitive roebucks meshing in thy toil ;My toils man's very senses "captivate !" Twere better" (gave reply the goddess pure)In these my meshes legier bucks to encoilThan thou therein be netted by thy mate "1

LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.deÂbounds in Variants).If from yomyjîry form and graceful ges tep rett y blossoms to delight man's eye-sight,for man's bosom be the durest eye-blight,4i me stands proved clear and manifest :*?Seeing with pudency your beauties drest,II saw a thousand posies deckt with Eye-bright ;But had my heart worn glasses which man's eye lightne'er had seen you deal such wound funest.An 111 weal-showing, Weal that evil seemsMy thought are raising high o'er human planeIn thousand several shades of phantasy:Wherein I ever fare, and fare in dreams,While you care nothing save to see my pain,That lends foundation to your jubilee.CCXCIV.N^hum tad alto lugar de tanto frefo("Man's Life is honoured by a noble Death." Petrarch, I.Canz. 1 6).Upon so noble height, man's highest prize,My will and wishes 'stablished I see,That e'en Desire there fainteth, for-that sheOne allunworthy of such worth espies.When such low-standing mine I recognize,I find my Care extreme immodesty ;To die for it were insufficiencyAnd greater guerdon than myworth affies.

SONNETS, 221The more than natural claim to high desartOf one who causeth me so dreadful doomMaketh itevery hour grow more and more, ah !But from far-ranging thoughts I nill depart ;For, though this Evil drive me to the tomb,Un bel morir tutta la vita honora.ccxcv.Quantas penaS) amor, quantos cuidados,(By Diego Bernardes ?).How many miseries, Love !what banes inbredHow many a bootless rain of tearful brine,Wherewith a thousand times breast, face and eyneAre bathed (blind godhead for !) thy sake beshed !How many mortal sobs and sighs dispreadFrom heart so subject to that will of thine !As many Ills as thou hast worked, in fine,All fand employment showering on my head.Satisfied all things (this I own to thee)One single eye-glance, love and pity showingFrom one who captured me by Fate's command.O ever blessed hour such bliss bestowing !What Fear remains me since 'twas mine to see,With so much joyaunce mine, a sight so bland ?

222 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.CCXCVI.O tempo acdba^ o anno, o mez^ e a hora,(Cf. Soim. 316).Time endeth every time, year, month and hourAnd force, and art, and wit, and hero-will :Time endeth Fame and voideth golden Fill,And Time Time's being must himself deplore.Time finds and finishes for evermoreThe force of thankless and enhardened 111 ;But Time my surging sorrows ne'er shall stillUntil, my Ladye you my rest restore.!Time turneth clearest Day to Night obscure,Time turneth joyous laugh to tears most triste,Time turneth stormiest sea to stillest Main.But Time ne'er softeneth (of this truth I'm sure)That heart, as adamant hard, wherein consistOf this my Hope the pleasure and the pain.CCXCVII.Posfo me tern Portuna em tal estado,(Written late in life ?).Fortune hath placed me in so parlous stateAnd so she humbles me her feet before,That (lost) for losing own I nothing more,That (changed) no changing I can now await.For me all Good is finished by Fate,Henceforth I find my life as lived forlore ;For where such 111 is conned the wide world o'er,Life shall excuse me living longer rate.

SONNETS.223If Will avail me aught I will but die,For well becomes me ne'er another Hope,And thus I'll cure one 111 with other 111 :And when so little Weal of Weal hope I,Now that one remedy with this 111 can cope,.To seek such remedy blame they not my Will.CCXCVIILfa nad fere o Amor com arco forte^(To Feliza, by candlelight).No more with force-full bow fares Love to smite,Now bin his arrows dasht upon the plain,No more (as wont) battayle would he darraign,The fight he offereth is another fight.He does us die with eyne through eyen-lightAnd, to make sicker Shot ne'er shot in vain,Your eyes he choosM which inorbed containMore charms than all ; twixt North and South are pight.Love such almighty power to you hath lentTo live exempt his and fro?fancy-free(Now while I rhyme the taper's light isThen if,Feliza ! malcontent you seeMy sonnet, pray'e take no further tentFor all is vision shown by Phantasy.spent).

224 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.CCXCIX.Since, Tears Is, lagrimas, tratais mis ojos tristes,(Spanish : same subject as Sonn. 260).my tristful eyes ye treat so bold,That spend in shedding Tear-flood night and day,Look ye if this be Tear she doth conveyFor whom so many a rill whilome ye rolFd :Perpend, mine Eyes what ! 'tis you here beholdAnd if a Tear, O luck to me for aye IYou have employed, in the bestest wayFor this one single, thousand million-fold.But whatsoever holds he dearest dear(Albe secured) man will ne'er believe,Much more the boon that doth unhoped appear.Nathless I say you, though the gift deceive,Enough the Tear be given as a Tear,That I as very Tear the Tear receive.cccOlhosformosos em quern quiz natura(Cf. Sonns. 38 and 152).Beautiful Eyes Iwhich potent Nature badeDisplay her powers in highest, surest sign,If ye your pith and puissance would divine,Look on the Creature you (the Maker) made.In me your portraiture is clear pourtray'd,In all I suffer you are drawn to line :For if unequal pains to pass be mine,Far greater potency your charms displayed.

SONNETS. 225For self I only crave the Crave of me :Yours and yours only I myself esteem,That on my head your pledge shall set its seal.Self I remember not when you I seeNor yet the world ;nor err I, for I deemThat in your Sovenance dwells my worldly Weal.CCCI.Quern presumir^ Senhora^ de louvar-vos,(Variant of No. 106 : last of Common Editions).Whoso presumeth, Ladye mine !to praise you.With lore of mortal, not with lere divine.He shall be proved of such Fault condignAs you prove perfect to what sight surveys you.Let none with praises vain pretend to upraise you,However rare his praise and peregrine ;So doth your Beauty in my fancy shineSave with yourself Compare the Lord denays you.Blest my-your Spirit, which you did embraveTo take possession of a prize so splendidAs that, my Ladye ! which to me you gave.Better than very life I will defend it ;For, since so tender mercy crowned my Crave,In unforgetful memory I will hend itLyricks

226 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.PART III.(Nos. 302-360).CCCILJLos que bivts subjecfos a la esfrela(Spanish :apparently proemium to fourth, century).Ye who live subject to the Venus star.And to her lovely Son whom Love we name,I speak not those who seeing any dameDeclare her favours life can make or mar :No ! 'tis to those Love's spark o' life shall garFor one and only one wear breast a-flame ;And 'mid them only those who burn to claimThe pangs that causes of more loving are :Speed you to see my song, where picturedYou shall view sundry feats Fate gendereth,Which in the bowels of my Being are bred :Shall see Love's terrible power all perileth :Shall see his anguish, grame and anxious dread ;Sighs, singults, weeping, ugly pains and Death.CCCIILTodas as almas tristes se mostravao(Repeats Sonns. 41 and 77).Showed all men's spirits, by their woe down-weigh'd,A pious pity for their Lord Divine,And, in the presence of His mien benign,Tribute of praises due to Him they paid:

SONNETS. 227My free-born senses then my Will obey'd,For hereto Destiny held to her design ;When eyes, those eyes, whereof I ne'er was digne,By robbing Reason all my me waylaid.The bright new Vision struck me stony blind,Born of uncustom was the strangest senseOf that sweet presence, that angelick air.hurt can I no medicine find ?To heal myAh !why did Fortune breed such differenceAmid the many woman-borns she bare ?CCCIV.Senhora niinha^ se de fura mveja(Scherzando to a : high-coloured Dame),My Dame ! if Love of purest jealousySuffer no more that dainty sight be shown,That flush of roses on the snow-bed sown,Those eyes whose shine Sol covets enviously:He may not rob me so I never seeSouled in my Soul the charms he made your own,Where I will ever make your portrait woneNor care how cruel enemy be he ;In sprite I see you, and I view ne'er bornOn plain or prairie, howso fresh and fair.Aught save the flower that scenteth every hill :I see on either cheek red lilies 7 hue :Happy who sees them, but far happierWho has and holds them an Earth hold such Weal !Q 2

228 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.cccv.Contas, que fraz Amor com meus cuidados?(Cf. Canz. VI. 7)-Accounts that Cupid keeps with my unheleBid me recount my tale of bitter pain :These bin Accounts where thought shall ever strainSad pine recounting, Fortune's dire unweal :Cruel the Accounts would be, if counted illBe all my services, whose end is fainTo prove of some Account in compt of gainThemselves accounting Fortune's favourites still.If haply faring forth your sight I see ;Uncounted beading tears ! a torrent turgid.Caused by this effect, go, shameless flow IThere say you be salt drops, for ever surgedFrom infinite Ocean, the desire of me.That fires the furnace where ye (Tears !)are forged.CCCVI.Fermosa mao que o coracao me aperta,(Probably by Camoens).That fair-formed Hand my heart in holding takes,If my subjected Will it make submit,And show such sweetness albe counterfeit,When shall I see the certainty it makes ?My slumbers dream-full are, my grief awakes ;Complete the pain, the gloire is incomplete ;What boots if I asleep the vision greetWhich my awaking eye-glance aye forsakes ?

SONNETS. 229Love wills my Welfare but his wiles be bold,Some good he showeth trickt with cunning skill,Good that witholdeth most but hath no hold :For, when fro' Love-snare I unsnare my will(Those Ills awaking which a slumber dole'd)He deals with banisht Weal redoubled I1LCCCVILDe tantas perfei$oens a natureza(Variant of Sonns. 17, 131, and 153).With such perfections Nature gave her careTo form, gent Dame !your figure's fair design.Yours bin a Beauty in this world divine,Divine in graceful geste and airiest air :Of sort your Beauty shows beyond Compare,In you so many graces purely shine,No Dame so 'sured that she deem her digneTo feel, you present, she can call her fair ;Toiled human Nature, till she could no more,To frame a model of such charm and grace,When deckt with graceful charms your shape she bore ;And, more to glorify that form and face,After she framed you at once she sworeNe'er more to forge for Soul so fair a Case,

23 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.CCCVIILjyamores de huma inclita -donzella(Variant of Sonn. 137).Smitten with love of Inclyt DamoselThe God of Love his very self did see,Confined, in fine, the more he'd fain go freeFrom charms all conquer, all to yield compel :Never saw mortal world such Bonnibel,When Nature gathered in this perfect SheGraces that garred Love such wound to dree,Laces ne force ne fraud shall countervail :O seld-seen loveliness, O lovely lure !Loveliness potent e'en to subjugateThe very Love-god in his sovran reign:Look if a Human of so feeble strainCan, with his little force, bear force so greatWhen Love's own force so little could endure !CCCIX.JZ?nhum batel que com doce meneio(Petrarch, I. 170).In a slight Barque that softly, gently swayingParted gold-rolling Tagus' wavy flow,I saw fair Ladies, liefer say I soFair Stars around one Central Sun a-rayingThe Maids Nereian delicately playing3Wi thousand lays and liltings sweet and lowIn sport the beautiful array would row(An err I not) for better honour paying.

SONNETS. 231O lovely Nereids ! who with songsa-liftHaste that serenest vision to enjoy,Which on my life-tide wills such 111 to wreak ;Tell her how passeth (look she !) passing swiftFleet-footed Time ;how tedious mine annoy.For Time be ready-strong and Flesh be weak.cccx.Que fiz^ Amor, que tu tao mal me tratas^(By the Duque de Aveyro ?).What did I, Love, thou shouldst me so maltreat ?I not being thine why shouldest will me ill ?And why, if holden thine, thus spoil and spillMy wretched Life-tide made one long defeat ?If bound 'to abet that cruel Nymph's deceit.And thou must haste her esperance full to fill,To whom shall I bewail what Ills thou will,What life shalt give me after taking it ?And thou (Unpitiful !)to my gloire and fameMortal oblivion dost for boon return,Aye disregarding so unguarded flame !But since thou come not to thy lover's claim,Uncoming never shalt thou tidings learnOf him who ever calleth on thy name.

232 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.CCCXLSe ao que te quero desses tanta fe,(Probably by Camoens, for a friend).If in "I love thee " thou as much confideAs be thou prodigal of heart-felt pain,My sighs of sorrow were not sighed in vain,favour cried.Nor had I vainly for thyBut since thy harshness all belief deniedTo woes conditioned by thy coy disdain,With thee Unreason hath more might and mainThan all the tender love in me descried.And since thou ever broughtst me Death so nearWith that Unlove which ne'er be mine behoved,Yes, I will die, but know thy gain be dear !Asked o' thee daily mortal hearts commoved" Ah why hast murthered, Ladye cruel-fere !The one who loved thee more than life he loved ?"CCCXILO Tempo esta uingado a C2tsta(Connected with. Nos. 5 and 150).mmTime isavenged (costing me so dear)On time, when Time I wont so cheap to rate ;Sad whoso was of Time in like estateThat Time at every time spent free o 3 fear !Chastised me Time and Obstinacy sheerBecause wi 7Time I did miscalculate,For Time hath so untimely left my fateNow hope I nothing from good timely chear.

SONNETS. 233Times, hours and moments swiftly, surely past,When I could profit of my Time and tide,With hope that Time my tormentrye outlast :But when in Time I ventured to confide,As Time hath various motion, slow and fast,I chid myself that Time I mote not chide.CCCXIILQuern dusca no amor contentamento,(Sufistical).Whoso Contentment seeks in Love to find,Finds what his Nature deemeth suitable ;But Substance, balancing twixt Good and 111,Is but a leaflet whirling in the wind.Who to such Mobil^ hath self resignedE'en his own glory holds not at his Will :In constant quality ne'er 'tisequable,Since for his torment 'tis of fleeting kind.Thus find we Love displaying, day by day,In single Subject two contending Foes,Which be, peraunter, thus of Fate ordained :Now one way straying then on other way,Or to the lover's lucre or his loss,But ne'er one moment to despair constrained.

234 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.CCCXIV.Se a ninguem tratais com desamor,(Cf. Ode IV. 3 and 4).An with Unlove you deign no man to treat,Nay, love you general loving to repart,Showing to each and every self-same heartPlenisht wf gentle chear, wi* love replete:Me fro' this day entreat with hate and heat,Display me coy disdain, do cruel smart ;Then shall I haply hold in whole and partMe only holdest for thy favours meet.For an thou deal sweet doles to every wight,"Tis clear thy favour won he, he aloneTo whom thou showest anger and despight.Ill could I weet my love thy love has wonIf wone another love within thy sprite :Love owns no partnership: No J Love is one.cccxv.Gostos falsos de amor, gostos fingidos,(Written in absence, probably In India).False Gusts of Love, feigned Gusts for ever feigning,Vain Gusts by narrow limits limited,Great Gusts the while in Fancy born and bred,Small Gusts when all the gain was lost by gaining ;Wasted ere won, forlore before the attaining,E'en at the firstbeginning finished ;Changeful, inconstant, hotly hurried,Appearing, disappearing, waxing, waning :

SONNETS. 235I lost you losing all my hope to seeAught of recovery now I; hope no higherThan with your Sovenance see you cease to beFor if my Life-tide and my Fancy tireO' Life so far fro' you, more tireth meRemembering days when mine was my Desire.CCCXVI.Com a tempo o prado seco reverdece,(By the mystic, Balthazar Esta$o ?).Wi JTime the wilted meadow waxeth green,W? Time in glooming grove the leaflet lies,Wi' time the mighty stream more gently hies,Wi' Time growfat and rich fields poor and lean :Wi JTime this day is stormy, that serene,W? Time this bay-wreath blooms, that laurel diesWi JTime hard painful Evil fleets and flies,Wi' Time our vanisht Weals again are seen :Wi JTime shall niggard Fate a change bestow,Wi' Time high station falls annihilate,Wi* Time returns ithigherstill to soar.Wi' Time shall all things come, shall all things go,Only the passed Time who ganged his gaitWi' Time a present Time becomes no more.

236 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.CCCXVILAquelles daros olhos que chorando(Written in India?).Those brightly beaming Eyne with tearful stainBedimmed I saw the while fro' them I hied,What do they now?An for an absent aught to care they deign ?If they in memory hend or how or whenWho shall to me confideI saw from joyaunce self so wide and side ?Or if they figure the glad time and tide(That happiest day) when I their sight regain ?If count they hours and how each moment flees ?If in one instant many years they live ?If they confabulate with bird and breeze ?O happy Visions 1 blessed PhantasiesThat in this absence thoughts so sweet can giveAnd know to gladden saddest reveries !CCCXVIILAusente dessa vista fura e bella(Written in India ?).While from that pure belle Vision driven afarWhich erst made life-tide ever glad and gay,Now on my absent Life such agonies preyAs did your presence every bane debar :Cruel and direful call I that dure StarWhich drives my joys fro 7you so far away,Banning a thousand times the hour, the day,The curst beginning of such angry jar :

SONNETS.237And I so tortured in this absence wone,Doomfed by destined, ever-cruel PowerA dule so singular in this world to dree.Long had I patience far fro' me out-thrownNor less my Life, by force of this same stowre,Did I not cherish lifeyour sight to see.CCCXIX.Saudades me atormentao tad crudmente,(Written in India ?).Repining pains me with so fierce intent,Repine for pleasure past and weal bewray'd ;So much of Evil ne'er my doom was madeSans reason, sithence I can self absent :For Love I saw me whilom all-content.For Love I willed lifeby pain waylaid ;Tis right I see mine error so well paidAs now, when present griefs and pains torment.For well deserved I, faring far fro' you,To unsee you, Ladye nor !you see me more,That with my life-tide I defray my due :But, as my Spirit doth its sin deplore,Bid me not weep lost lot, and grant I viewWith gladdened eyes one softening glance some hour.

238 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.cccxx.O dia, hora ou o ultimo momenta(Written in India?).The day, the hour, the moment of that hourWhich ends a life-tide Destiny so mismade,I view already Esperance waylaid,Nor Thought shall trick me with her snaring power.Shifts full of tristesse, Severance full of stowre,Faring that saw me forfeit, soon as said,What my long service merited be paid ;O ! how by changing Change can all deflower !No more I hope to sight the things gone by,I see that Parting, now prolonged so long,Hopes of returning to my heart deny :My little tale Is tattled by the throng,Right well I weet 'twas mine to verifySuch long-drawn Partings to short life belong.CCCXXLSe j>ara mim tivera^ que algum dia(Written in India?Cf. Canz, XL).Could I for self expect that some one day,Moved by the Passion which my torments ventYou mote a something sense of sentimentFor one who seeth rest none other wayMine Ills for Glories I to heart would lay,And hold as pleasures whatso pains have shent ;And, in the midst of Discontent, contentSweet Memory ? s orders I would fain obey.

SONNETS. 239Woe worth the day What !thoughts my sprite be firingO' things that hasten faster to entomb me,For pay of summer-madness so notorious !What serves my purpose this so fond desiring,When your deserving and my Destiny doom meTo doubt such glory that can dub me glorious ?CCCXXII.Oh fortuna cruel ! oh dura sorte !(Imitation of Camoens ?).Ay, cruel Fortune Ay, dure lot of woe ! !Labour that placed me in so parlous state,No disillusion now will I await,For Death's the only cure my care shall know :" Art blind?" (quoth Love) "so stark thyself to show'Gainst one who fareth ever aggravateWhile doing thee service, and disconsolateWith heart sore harmed by thy swashing blow ? "But now as Destiny wills me worst of willAy cruel Fortune mine O !Amor, grantAs least of guerdon leave to wail my fill :For in such travail, woe so puissant,111 could I (lacking it)console mine III,Now that none other boon of thee I want

240 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS,CCCXXIII.Perder-me assi em vosso esquedmento(Metaphysico-amorous, by Carnoens?).Thus from your Thought to lose me nills consentMy very Being by your charms overthrown ;Yet so I, being a being to you beknown,Or e'en consented, now shall rest content.But when you careless deign such Coyness ventOn one who merits every kindness shown,Tho ?ne'er my spirit shall the offence condone,Far more ofendeth me your meritment.That you bear blame endureth not my Will,You to myself I 'trusted, Ladye mine !Sans aught of unbecoming blot or tache.Then show your Countenance pity for mine 111,As Love there wones with every Grace, in fine,And all perfection doth to you attach.CCCXXIV.Se alguma hora em vos a piedade(Written when going to India ?).If haply rue you, in some happy hour,Your denie of torments that so long tormented,Love shall denay Consent that fare contentedFar from your dearest eyes my pine-full stowre.Fro' you I fare me, but the Will whose powerYour form fro' Nature on my soul depainted,Bids me believe this absence feigned and fainted,But how much worse when I its truth discoure I

SONNETS. 24!I must go, Ladye and fro* you begone,!My tristful tears shall take revenge in kindOn eyne whose daily bread were you alone.Life 111 surrender by its pains undone,shall findFor here my Memory me, in fine,Ensepulchred in your Oblivion,cccxxv.J& tempo foi que meus olhos traziam(Not by Camoens ?}.Time was mine Eyes delighted to unfoldSome gladsome tidings to my mind's Intent ;Time was when every sense and sentimentRejoiced to savour what to me they told :Love and Love-longings thronged then to holdA general meeting in my breast content,While on her firm foundations Esperance leantAnd glosing quiddities turned out a-cold.That Nymph of mine then waxing less humaneSmote Love with careless glance, a two-edged Sword,O saddest 111 ! O cruel Feliciane !Complaints with Jealousy, meseems, accord,Yet no for certain ! nor is such my bane :My Faith in justice speaks this bitter word !

242 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.Quao lentCCCXXVI.aventurado me achara,(Imitation of Camoens ?}.With what high blessing me had Fortune blestWould Love such favour on my lot bestow,And thus, while least of boons he willed show,With show of greater would content my breast.Entire and parfitWeal had I possest,Did not my longings long more Weal to know ;But now (when seen you) I deserve to owe,At least, the object of my longing questYet these Desires with this exceeding DareWere born of me when 'twas my Sort to sight you,And wax they stronger, Dame ! with every sight.Desire fro 3Fancy's hand I strave to tear,For 'tis my firm belief 'twill only flyte you,But thrives it evermore the more I fightCCCXXVILSi el trtste cora$on que siempre llora>(Spanish :written during first exile t).If the triste heart that Weeping e'er must dree,Yet lacks what maketh Weeping meritorious,Could 'joy already joys of fight victorious,Won in Love's warfare worse'd by victory jIf, now enshadowed by the greeny tree,I feed of Phantasies the flock memoriousWell mote I 'joy Joy's height I hold most gloriousCould I one moment my Pastora see ;

SONNETS.Then, neither Air, with airy sighs, besigh'dFor Love, could deal my Dolours incrementNor fount-full eyelids feed this founty tide.But, to despoil me of all jolliment,A passion bids from her I absent 'bideWho ne'er is absent fro' my Soul and SentCCCXXVIILDo estan los daros ojos que colgada(Spanish :written in exile?).Where be those clearest orbs that wont to bearIn suite and following my surprized sprite ?Where be those cheeks with rosy splendour dightSurpassing roses of the rarest rare ?Where be the red red lips so debonnairAdorned with teeth no snow was e'er so white ?The tresses starkening golden metal's lightWhere be they? and that dainty hand, ah where ?O lovely all ! where hidst thou evermoreThat I may never see thee, whom to seeMy great Desire destroys me every hour !But look no longer on this vainest plea,Still in my spirit I my Ladye store,And ask where hidest thou fro* sight of me !R 2

244 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.CCCXXIX.Ventana iienturosa,do amaneteThou winsome Window !(Spanish : for a friend ?).whence the Morns dispreadMy Ladye's splendour with Apollo's glow,Mote I behold thee fired with such loweAs that such splendour in my spirit bred !For an thou see what Ills I sufferedAnd feel the dule aye firing soul so woe,Why to my longing eyes the Couch ne'er show,The flower-bed flourishing with tears I shed ?If nothing move thee now my painful plight,Leastwise commove thee sight of that small gainGained when joyaunce thou deniest my sprite.Now since thou connst it, Casement unhumane !E'er Day my dule discoure to mortal sight,Grant I behold my Nymph, my suzerain.cccxxx.De piedra, de metal, de causa dura,(Spanish :a conceit).With stone, with metal, substance cold and dure,My Nymph enclothes her soul, the dure, the cold,The locks be woven of the cold dure gold.The brow is whitest marble's portraiture:The eyne are dyed with smaragd's verd' obscure,The cheeks granadoes, and the feigning mouldOf lips isruby none may have in hold ;The snow-white teeth show pearly lustre pure :

SONNETS. 245The hand be youngest ivory and the throatOf alabaster ivy-clipt, whereonThe veins are skeins of lazuli rutilant :But what in all of you most awed I note,Is seeing, albe all of you be stone,You bear embosomed heart of diarnant.CCCXXXI.Al fie de una verde e alta enzina(Spanish :a little Idyll).At foot of lofty holm, in verdant shade,Awaked Corydon his viol's sound,O'erhung by felting ivy, spireing roundThe bole, and flaunting to the branching head.He sang the love he bore that lovely maid,May Amaryllis, who his bonds had bound;The birds go coursing o'er the boughen-ground,A chrystal fountain playeth through the glade :To him draws Tityrus near in reverie lost,Driving his weary flock wi' hunger spent :This was the Shepherd-friend he lovfed most,Who sang the sorrows which his heart had rent :-Nor alien speech for grieving Soul hath gust,Nor grief of alien grieveth Heart content

24'6 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.CCCXXXII.Amor, Amor^ quefieres(Spanish : copy corrupt).al coitadoLove 1 Love 1 who joyest aye the wretch to smiteWhich for thy love did service many a year,Thy service bearing, maugre snares so fere ;In fine, fine never looked-for hast thou dight.With lonesome Dolours, with a care-full SpriteEnsnared, thou payest service bought so dear,Cases so strange, unheard by human ear,For thee enduring like no mortal wight.Who deems thee godhead he's gone mad I vouch,Who holds thy justice fails in equity,For least he gains who serves thee long and much.Let thy believers deem the worst of me,I judge from whatso see I and I touchAnd hardly trust I what I touch and see.CCCXXXIILFermoso Tejo men quam differente(Attributed to three other writers).My lovely Tagus with what different Sent!I saw and see thee, me thou sawst and se'est :I see thee turbid, me thou seest triste,I saw thee limpid, me thou sawst content :Changed thee a Freshet, flooding vehement,Which thy large valley faileth to resist :Changed me her Favour dealing, as she list,Or life contented or life miscontent.

SONNETS.247Now that in evils be we partners twain,So be 't in welfare ;ah ! mote I but seeWe two were likest in our bliss and bane !When a new Prime shall bloom with brightest bleeWhat erst thy being was shalt show again :I n'ote if what I was again shall be.CCCXXXIV.Memorias offendidas que hum s6dia(On the death of a lover).Offended Memories !that no single dayUnto my brooding Thoughts a rest have lent,My taste of torments may ye ne'er prevent,Whom you offend he fended you alway.If well ye will me, look how ye bewrayThe dainty blossoms of that sentimentShe left, when I to eternal Exile wentFrom her fere Death undid to cold dead clay.She left me pining for my past offence ;She stole my single, sole-remaining cureWhich could warrayall woes that worse my sprite.Where shall my losses look for recompense,When on my sorrow doth my Luck assureIt ne'er shall lend my life one moment's light ?

248 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.Lembrangas tristes^cccxxxv.ara que gastais tento(On the death of a lover).Ye tristeful Souvenirs !why this vain intentOf over-tiring heart so tired by Fate ?Rest ye contented seeing me in such state,Nor fro' me seek ye greater meritment.I fear you little whatso pangs ye vent,Wont in my wonted woes to gang my gait ;I feel mine Evils weigh so weighty weight,No Weal my hapless me can now content.In vain I labour when to harm I soughtOne who has lost his hopes in long-drawn strife,One dead to all he once desired see :From overlosing I to lose have naught,Sauf this already worn and weary lifeWhich, for my sorer loss, survives in me.CCCXXXVXQuando descangareis^ olJios cansados !(Probably written in India).When shall ye rest you, Eyne that look for rest \Since Her who lent you life no more you view ;Or when shall view you wishing long adieuTo your misfortune's immemorial quest ?Or when shall hard-heart Fate vouchsafe behestMy ruined Esperance in my soul renew,Or when (if every Hope be lost to 'you)With by-gone blessings can ye make me blest ?

SONNETS. 249This pine shall do me die right well I ween,Wherein my hoping were like whistle o' wind ;Then nowise hope I my desire be dight :And when so truly the sore truth Fve seen,Come every possible pain for me designedAs naught affrights me what each day I sight.CCCXXXVILMemoria de meu bem cortado em flares,(Probably written in India).Memories of Joyaunce !nipt in budding flow'rBy the frore fingers of my fere Misfate,Vouchsafe a gracious rest my cares abateIn my Love's ever restless, ceaseless stowre.Suffice me Ills and Fears that present low'rFor ever threating Chance unfortunate.Without return of long-past happy stateTo affront with dolours every happy hour.I lost In single hour what I in timeSo large, so slowly minuting, had gain'd:Dreams of this glory fly ye, far go flee.My life needs perish in this desert-climeFor here I 'm fated with mine Ills to endNot one but thousand lives, hard !Memory

LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.CCCXXXVIILDo corpo estavajd quasifor$ada,(Variant of the immortal No. 19).Enforced by greater force well-nigh had fledIts frame that gentle Soul to Heaven due,Rending her noble webs of Life she flewFor faster 'turning to her patrial stead.Still flowering, blooming, ere her root had spreadIn Earth she hated with a hate so true,Self she uprooted and departing drewFro 7Death a sweetness for that journey dread.Pure Soul, who self to mortal world hast shownFree from its fetters which the lave enlace,For few short hours exchanging fair long years :Of thine, thou leftest 'lone in woe to wone,Move thee high Pity, while so slowly paceThese hours made slower by our tristful tears.CCCXXXIX.O dia, hora em que naci moura e pereâ,(A Threnody : certainly by Camoens).Die an eternal Death my natal Day,May Time that hapless date unknow, unlearn ;May \ ne'er return and, if it need return,Blackest eclipse the bright Sun overlay1Fail of his splendour Sol's resplendent ray,Earth ! show relapse to chaos 7 reign forlorn,Air ! rain thou blood ; all monster-births be bornAnd may the Mother cast her bairn away !

SONNETS. 251Then shall the peoples in amazed distress,With cheeks tear-stained, bosoms horror-fraught,Expect a shattered world eftsoons to sightFon race ! on similar fancies lay no stress ;For on this Day to light a life was broughtThe most unhappiest life e'er brought* to lightCCCXL.Transumpto sou^ Senhora^ neste engano,(To a Lady fain of gifties).I am translated, Ladye!by your snare,And snaring-practise mote to me be sparfed ;Hardly can mortal man by you be snaredWho could from other yous unsnar&d fare.Now well I weet me, 'twas at cost of careWhen you for nothing save sweet gifties cared,But, as your judgment hath of me declared,This year's expectancy goes vain and bare.Of Love I treated long, but now my sightEasily seeth Feignery and its aim ;For so doth seem, gent Dame ! whatever you show.Your very cunning holp you to this sleight,Claim fro* me only what I care you claimOr else 'tis uphill way you please to go.

252 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.CCCXLI.Ondas que for el mundo camtnando(Spanish : written in Africa ?).Waves that encircle all the globe, with flowOnborne for ever by the legier breeze,Bear, in your bosoms borne, my reveriesWhere bides who, whereso biding, bodes she WoeTell her I only heap on woes a throe,Tell her my life may not one moment please ;Tell her Death mils to slay my tormentries,Tell her I live yet every Hope forgo.Tell her how lost when found anew you me,Tell her how in my gain you lost my Sprite,Tell her how lifeless cruelly slew you me.Tell her how came you me the Smit to smite,Tell her how undone did undo you me,Tell her how saw me only hers your sight.CCCXLILSobre un olmo que al cielo farecia(Spanish).Percht on sky-climbing Elm, that showed nudeOf bloom and leafage, saw I saddest showA lone and widowed Bird who whelmed in woeMore solitary made the solitude :O'er a clear Fount that sea-ward path pursuedWith mournful dulcet murmur bent she low,And with her plunged plume disturbed its flowAnd drank the water seen it muddy-hue'd.

SONNETS, 253The cause that cast her down in grievous careWas the lone Turtle's sense of severance :Behold how Severance mortal griefs can bear !An love and parting have such vehemence,And to unreasoning Bird so deal despair,Say what shall sense he that hath sent and sense ?CCCXLIILCanada e rouca boz por que Rolando(Spanish : written by Camoens ?).Weary harsh-sounding Voice !why take not flightAnd where lies sleeping my Florinda wend ;And there of all things whereto I pretendWhy not, happy Voice ! enjoy delight ?Go soft, and sighing in her ear alight,And unheard tell her, though she ne'er attend,I dree such Evils only Death can endAnd I am singing when to die I'm dightAnd tell her, though her counterfeit I holdHere to my 'biding I would see her hieing,Would she not find her lover lifeless-cold,But ay! I n'ote what say you save I'm dying,Because so near her beauties to beholdYet ne'er beholding what I die for 'spying.

254 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.CCCXLIV.O cafitao Romano esdarecido^(Alluding to Albuquerque and Ruy Dias ?).The Roman Capitayne so famed of yore,Sertorius, second never found in fight,Such lofty model to us mortals dightThat ne'er was heard of, ne'er was seen before.Sith for a soldier who his oath forswore,Doing a villein deed of base-born wight,He dealt so terrible and so dread requite,Wherefore his Many feared him ever more.What made the Chief that Legion decimate ?For-that it failed do the duties owe'dTo grim and grisly, hard and horrid MartO clear example Captain forceful !great.Who upon Roman men the lore bestow'dOf soldier Science, of invincible Art !CCCXLV.A Roma fofulaâ proguntava(Apology for marriage : "by Camoens ?).Happed of the Roman populace to speerA certain curious Wit, a careless Wight,Wherefore in general do the kye delightTo pair at certain seasons of the year ?Whereto as Folk discreet, which would appearResponsive soaring to an eminent height,They by a single phrase threw notable lightOn the dark theme and showed what held they dear.

SONNETS. 255This was the intention": Brutes may not intendHow fair fruition and what weighty worthHave Hymen's fetters binding man's desire :But brutaller Bestials they who e'er pretendIn flesh a pleasure find, find joy on Earth,Leaving their Souls to feed the Eternal Fire.CCCXLVLCom o generoso rostro alanceado(One of the last written by Camoens).With sign of lance-thrust on his generous face,And smirch t his Royal brow with dust and blood,To Charon's gloomy bark on Acheron floodCame great Sebastiam shade in shadowy place.The cruel Ferryman, seen the forceful case,Whenas the King would pass opposing strode,And cried " None tombless o'er this flood e'er yodeFor all Unburieds on the shore must pace."Commoved the valorous Kingwith kindled ireReplies "False : Greybeard! haply wouldst assureNone past yon side by force of golden ore ?Durst thou with Monarch bathed in Moorman goreChaffer of funeral pomps, of sepulture?From one less wealthy o r5wound thy fee requireI

256 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.CCCXLVILQuando do raro esfor$o que mostravas(On the brave death of a young soldier).When thy rare Valiancy In battle shownTo gather warfare's largest fruit ne'er failed,Fate shore thy flowering age, whose feats prevailedO'er the short year-tale thou couldst call thine own.Set in its helmet-frame thy face outshoneWhen visor-veiled Mars, Amor unveiled :If oped thy Sabre serried squads assailedThy geste of Beauty Beauty's eye-glance won.No steel of foeman, no ! could doom thee bleed ;JTwas Vulcan's deed, the god whose forceful mightEnpierceth surest harness part and part:But he, for pardon of his fault shall plead,He deemed, seeing thy bravery beauty-dight,Thou wert a son of Venus sire'd by Mart.CCCXLVIII.Quamcedo teroubou a morte dura(Of D. Alvaro da Silveira slain and unburied ?).How soon hath stole thy lifeDeath sore and dureIllustrious Spirit wont to soar and stye ?Leaving thine outcast, clay-cold corse to lieIn strangest albe noble sepulture!Fro' Life, whose duraunce here may not endure,Already bathed in the Foe's red dye,Raised hy thy Valour's forceful hand on highThou winnest Immortal Fields where Life is sure.

SONNETS. 257The Spirit joyeth happy time eterne ;The Corse, that earthly grave could not contain,Earth bade her feathered children bear their prey.Thou leftest every heart to pine and yearn ;Thou soughtest honoured death on Honour-plain;Our Tagus bare thee, Ganges bore away.CCCXLIX.A //,Senhor> a quern as Sacras Musas(To Ms uncle D. Bento de Camoens?).To thee, Senhor ! whose Soul the sacred MusesFeed with a portion of their food divine,Not they of Delian fount nor Caballine,Which be Medeas, Circes and Medtises ;But the gent bosoms wherein Grace infusesArts which to heavenly laws o' grace incline*Kindly of doctrine and wi? Love benign,Not they whom blinded Vanity confuses ^This feeble offspring, and the latest bearingOf mine intelligence in weakly way,To thee a warm affection proffereth.But an thou notice it as over-daring.Here for that daring I would pardon pray,Pardon my Heart's affection meriteth.Lyricks

258 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.CCCL.Tu, que descanso buscas com(On the Redemption).Thou who with restless Hope to rest thee triedUpon this mundane Life's tempestuous Main,Hope not fro' travail any rest attain,Save rest in CHRIST, the JESU crucified.If toil for riches bring thee sleepless tide,In Him is found immeasurable gain ;If of true formosure thy Soul be fain,This Lord espying in His love shalt 'bide :If worldly pleasure or delight thou seek,The sweets of every sweet He holds in hoard,Delighting all with joys o'er Earth victorious.If haply gloire or honours thou bespeak,What can more honour bring, what bin more gloriousThan serve of highest lords the highest Lord ?O gloriosaCCCLI.Cruz^ O victorioso(Of Dom Sebastiam's Banner? Cf. Sonn. 243).O glorious Cross ! OCross for aye victorious !Trophy that every mortal spoil containeth jO chosen signal which to worlds ordainethA Panacea marvellous and memorious iO Living Fount that Holy Water raineth !In Thee our every bane its balm obtaineth,In Thee the Lord, " Almighty " titled, deignethAssume of Merciful the Name most glorious.

SONNETS.259In Thee was ended dreadful Vengeance-day,In Thee may Pity bear so fairest flowerAs Prime that followeth Winter's injury.Vanish all foemen flying from Thy power ;Thou couldst so potent change in Him displayWho never ceased what He was to be.CCCLII.Mil vezes se move meu pmsamento(Imperfect :Here Jur. ends).For times a thousand mine Intent was bentTo praise that forehead hued chrystalline,Those ribbed tresses shining golden Shine,The clear mind passing man's intendiment ;Which, wi' the softest, suavest movement, rent(Such was its might) the breast-plate diamantine ;Those sovereign Graces and that Air divine,That honest pride with sweetest accent blent :The Roses lying in a waste of sncwtThose pearls of Morning-land, a chosen row,Bedded in rubies smiling douce and gay:The light those glorious Eyne on us bestow,Shown by your gladdening smilet ever gay,Is light from Heaven, a paradisial ray.S 2

200 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.CCCLIILQueimado sejas tu e feus enganos(Braga, No. 300 ; Storck, 348).Burn thou and burn wf thee thy snaring BaneLove ! cruel fellow felonous and fell,Burnt be thine arrows, burn thy string as wellAnd Bow, the weapon working so much pain :Thy covenanted promises prophane,Thy wheedlings honieder than Hydromel,All, all may see I, when wi' gall they swell,Brent by the blaze wherewith thou burnest men.I leave thee now, those eyen-strings untying,To sight the orbs wherewith my sprite hast tied,For well sufficeth thee such vengeance.But like the Wight of desperate wound a-dying,111 shalt thou die if well the hurt thou hideLosing the single medicineCCCLIV.Esperance.Senkora, quern a tanto se atreve(Braga, No. 304 ; Storck, 349).Dame, whoso dareth hie to such a heightHe serve you, cherish you in Sovenance,Knowing such memory be sans esperance,The dues he claimeth bin ne little ne light.This Sprite holds more than what these Hands indite,Yet never hoping happy change of chance,Nor wishing other fair deliveranceFairer than Love-debt to your service dight.

SONNETS.2 6lTo hope for mighty chance from AventureWould to your meritment but work offence,And thus you pay the pains I underwentI hold impossible my Care to cure,And still remain my sense and sentimentIn bond of debtor to your Formosure.CCCLV.Angelica la bella despreriando(Spanish : Ariosto, XVIII. 165; Braga, 308? Storck, 350),Angelica, the bellabone, misdeemingWhatever joys Time placed upon her way.Flouted with jeering laughall men, that MayKingdoms and knightly value scant esteeming.Only of self and beauteous self aye dreamingHied upon Frankish-land her steps one day,Where saw she lonely under a tree-shade layA hapless infant with his life-blood streaming.She who had spurned Love and Love ?s behest,She who to all so cruel showed, so dure,Within her sensed the boon of softening breastThus seeing Medbro doth her hele secureAnd hence Love turned ill to good the best ;In fine Love-chances all bin Aventiire.

262 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.CCCLVLLa letra que s*el nombre en que me f undo(Spanish: to Luisa : Braga, 309; Storck, 351).The leading letter on my building-groundCometh the chiefest in my weary way,Justly the same was L, so men should sayIts light on lowly Earth, is loveliest found.Thus eke the V, that formeth second sound,Voweth to Death all eyne her Light survey ;Then showeth Y that yearneth to warrayAnd maketh dying hour most joyous Stound.Next cometh sign of S that doth sustainThe Sovran Being in whose form consistVirtue and grace and gifts as many and high,In fine all finisheth A, alluding plainAt end, at end, to me the wretch so tristeWhom Amor doomed for her love to die.CCCLVILLiiizct) son ian rubios tus cabellos(Spanish: Braga, 312; Storck, 352).Louise !thy tresses wear so ruddy huesSol but to see them would his car detain ;And, while their splendour gars his shine to wane,Would lose his radiance, not thy vision lose.Blest who, by worth empower'd, their glory views,Blester the hand that could one tress obtain,But blestest he who doth his Soul maintainOnly on glorious lights these locks diffuse.

SONNETS. 263Louise when shine and shimmer so immense!Of hair that lighteth all the Loves wi' lowe(And Love of other love claims recompense) ;Tho' scant I merit thou such gift bestowStill claims to see one tress my sighting senseTo pay my weeping and to pay my woe.CCCLVIILSe, senhora Luring algum comeco(Another Icarus : Braga, 338 ; Storck, 354).If any fain begin, my Dame Lurine !A song commensurate with your due of praise,He first would note your hard unfavouring waysAs highest honour to my pen 'twould mean.For if in hope to praise I interveneAnd to your world inspired self would raise,The Thought inspireth me with such amazeThat makes me, cert&s, more your worth misween.This soaring you-ward, whom such gifts exaltOf so high ardour, of so ardent flame,Melteth my pinions boldly fugitive ;And if I fall in Ocean of default,fair name and fameI to my failure giveBut who your Value's claim shall dare to give ?

264 LYRICKS OF CAMOENS.CCCLIX.Tristezas /Com passar tristes gemidosTristesse !(Jur. MS % ; Storck, 355).wi' tristest moans and groans I woneThro' day, thro' night to Phantasy appealing :In this black cavern extreme sorrow feelingTo see my life-tide suchwise overthrown :Hidden like shadows fly my years, and flownLeave naught of fruitage that -can work my healing,Save but to see them passing, whirling, wheelingWith Fortune's whirlgigtill no sense I own.In such imaginings, in tristest wayMy Soul turns giddy, nor I sense in SentIf I with any one say words I say \And, if of anything my Thoughts take tent,I cannot say, while so my woes torment.An fare I sane of sense or fare I fey.CCCLX.Dexadme^ cantinelas dulces mias(Spanish : an Adieu : Storck, 356 and 439).Leave me, ye douce melodious Lays o' mine,Leave me, ye rustick Pipes of sweet accord ;Leave me, clear Founts and leas of greeny sward,Leave me, glad Garths all shadow and sunshine :Leave me, ye Pastimes of my pride-full syneLeave me, ye Dances round the festal board ;Leave me the Pleasures flutes and flocks afford,Leave me, ye Slumbers J mid the sleepy kine.

SONNETS. 265Leave me, ye Stars and Moon and eke thou Sun,Leave me to mourn where tristest shades dismay me,Leave me sans joy 'twixt Pole and Pole to run ;Leave me, sweet Prizes that to death betray me :Yea ! leave me all in fine and leave me noneSave Dule and Dolour which are dight to slay me 1

LONDON :VVVMAN AND SONS, PRINTERS, GREAT QUEEN STREET,LINCOLN'S-INN FIELDS, w.c.

2ansas (Eitgfltthitr Sthrarg1 Presented to the Library bySanforci B* Ladd

126212

Camoens - The Lyrics part 1 - Sir Richard Francis Burton (1821-1890)

You also want an ePaper? Increase the reach of your titles

Delete template?

Save as template?