To The Duchess Of Ferrara

Royal bride, see the time advance
That calls true lovers to the dance,
To charm the clear and frosty nights,
Beneath the soft and pleasing lights.
Now a young girl dares to hear,
Love’s secret pain, in her chaste ear,
And leaves her lover uncertain, gently,
At war, with life and death, sweetly.
Great palaces, painted ceilings high,
Echo with song: only I weeping make
This dark prison ring. And is this then
Your loyalty? This the great gift, that I
So longed for? Ah, then you call a grave,
And prison, your pity, and your recompense?

poem by Torquato Tasso
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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