There are three kisses that I call to mind, And I will sing their secrets as I go. The first, a kiss too courteous to be kind, Was such a kiss as monks and maidens know;...
O Petrarch! I am here. I bow to thee, Great king of sonnets, thron'd long ago And lover-like, as Love enjoineth me, And miser-like, enamoured of my woe, I reckon up my teardrops as they flow....