BALLATE
BALLATA I
Sith need hath bound my heart in bands of grief,
Sith I turn flame in pleasure’s saffron fire,
I sing how I lost a treasure by desire
And left all virtue and am low descended.
I tell, with senses dead, what scant relief
My heart from war hath in his life’s small might.
Nay! were not death turned pleasure in my sight,
Then Love would weep to see me so offended.
Yet, for I’m come upon a madder season,
The firm opinion which I held of late
Stands in a changèd state,
And I show not how much my soul is grievèd
There where I am deceivèd
Since through my heart, midway, a mistress went
And in her passage all mine hopes were spent.
Note.–This is not really a ballata but is the first stanza of a
lost canzone, one mentioned by Dante in the D. V. E.
91
