200. ‘Non pur quell’una bella ignuda mano,’

Not just that one lovely naked hand,

that hides itself again to my great hurt,

but the other and the two arms, are quick

and ready to tighten on the soft timid heart.

Love sets a thousand snares, and none in vain,

wandering among that chaste new form

adorning her in high and heavenly ways,

to which our mind and art could add nothing:

calm eyes and starry brows,

that lovely angelic mouth, filled

with pearl and rose and sweet words,

that make others tremble in amazement,

her brow, and hair that seen

in summer, at mid-day, outdoes the sun.