point the way,
    And in the sweet task modulate my lay: 
    But gently be it, lest th’ o’erpowering theme
    Inflame and sting me, lest my fond heart may
    Dissolve in too much softness, which I deem,
    From its sad state, may be: 
    For in me—­hence my terror and distress! 
    Not now as erst I see
    Judgment to keep my mind’s great passion less: 
    Nay, rather from mine own thoughts melt I so,
    As melts before the summer sun the snow.

    At first I fondly thought
    Communing with mine ardent flame to win
    Some brief repose, some time of truce within: 
    This was the hope which brought
    Me courage what I suffer’d to explain,
    Now, now it leaves me martyr to my pain: 
    But still, continuing mine amorous song,
    Must I the lofty enterprise maintain;
    So powerful is the wish that in me glows,
    That Reason, which so long
    Restrain’d it, now no longer can oppose. 
    Then teach me, Love, to sing
    In such frank guise, that ever if the ear
    Of my sweet foe should chance the notes to hear,
    Pity, I ask no more, may in her spring.

    If, as in other times,
    When kindled to true virtue was mankind,
    The genius, energy of man could find
    Entrance in divers climes,
    Mountains and seas o’erpassing, seeking there
    Honour, and culling oft its garland fair,
    Mine were such wish, not mine such need would be. 
    From shore to shore my weary course to trace,
    Since God, and Love, and Nature deign for me
    Each virtue and each grace
    In those dear eyes where I rejoice to place. 
    In life to them must I
    Turn as to founts whence peace and safety swell: 
    And e’en were death, which else I fear not, nigh,
    Their sight alone would teach me to be well.

    As, vex’d by the fierce wind,
    The weary sailor lifts at night his gaze
    To the twin lights which still our pole displays,
    So, in the storms unkind
    Of Love which I sustain, in those bright eyes
    My guiding light and only solace lies: 
    But e’en in this far more is due to theft,
    Which, taught by Love, from time to time, I make
    Of secret glances than their gracious gift: 
    Yet that, though rare and slight,
    Makes me from them perpetual model take;
    Since first they blest my sight
    Nothing of good without them have I tried,
    Placing them over me to guard and guide,
    Because mine own worth held itself but light.

    Never the full effect
    Can I imagine, and describe it less
    Which o’er my heart those soft eyes still possess! 
    As worthless I reject
    And mean all other joys that life confers,
    E’en as all other beauties yield to hers. 
    A tranquil peace, alloy’d by no distress,
    Such as in heaven eternally