Sonnet XXI L’ Alma Mia Fiamma Oltra le Belle Bella
He Acknowledges the Wisdom of Her Past Coldness to Him
My noble flame—more fair than fairest are
Whom kind Heaven here has e’er in favour shown—
Before her time, alas for me! has flown
To her celestial home and parent star.
I seem but now to wake; wherein a bar
She placed on passion ’twas for good alone,
As, with a gentle coldness all her own,
She waged with my hot wishes virtuous war.
My thanks on her for such wise care I press,
That with her lovely face and sweet disdain
She check’d my love and taught me peace to gain.
O graceful artifice! deserved success!
I with my fond verse, with her bright eyes she,
Glory in her, she virtue got in me.
Macgregor.