Classic Poem

IN REPLY TO A SONNET OF JACOPO DA LENIINO

I would sing Love in music apt and new,
And bruise her hard heart into sigh on sigh,
And set her frozen mind to flaming high
With ardour; as each time she heard me sue,
Over her face would pass in swift review
Many a change; and tears in each proud eye,
Like one who grieves too late for memory
Of his own error and another's rue;
I would remark fresh roses in that snow
Rise with her breath — that ivory barrier
Which turns to marble whoso looks on her;
I would see all for which in life's brief show
I weary not myself but rather glory
That Heaven here keeps me for the later story.