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To Diane de Poitiers

Clement Marot

Farewell! since vain is all my care,
Far, in some desert rude,
I'll hide my weakness, my despair:
And, 'midst my solitude,
I'll pray, that, should another move thee,
He may as fondly, truly love thee.

Adieu, bright eyes, that were my heaven!
Adieu, soft cheek, where summer blooms!
Adieu, fair form, earth's pattern given,
Which Love inhabits and illumes!
Your rays have fallen but coldly on me:
One far less fond, perchance, had won ye!

From the French of Clement Marot.
Translation of Louise Stuart Costello.

Home :: Poetry :: Sorrow and Sadness (8) :: To Diane de Poitiers

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