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Francesco Petrarch

• There are creatures in the world with such other
• These days of mine, faster than a hind,
• Through the midst of inhospitable, wild woods,
• To make a graceful act of revenge,
• What do I feel if this is not love?
• What infinite providence and art
• When from hour to hour among the other ladies
• When I turn again to gaze on the years
• When I utter sighs, in calling out to you
• When the heavenly body that tells the hours
• Where is the forehead, that could make my heart turn
• Who wishes to see what Nature can achieve
• You who hear the sound, in scattered rhymes,
• Zephyr returns and brings fair weather,