193. ‘Pasco la mente d’un sí nobil cibo,’

I feed my mind on such noble food,

I don’t envy Jove ambrosia and nectar,

only by gazing, in that kind rain, I forget

all other sweets, and drink deep of Lethe.

At times I hear things to say, spoken in my heart,

so that I always find things to sigh for:

snatched up by Love’s hand, I don’t know where,

from one face I drink a double sweetness:

so that a voice, pleasing even in heaven,

sounds in such dear and graceful words,

that he who did not hear could never dream them.

Then together, in less than a span, appears

whatever art, wit, Nature, and Heaven

can visibly create in this life of ours.