Samuel Waddington, comp. The Sonnets of Europe. 1888.
Past JoysRodriguez Lobo
Translated by Richard Garnett
D
Our present from our former lot divides!
Glassy of yore, now turbid are thy tides,
Once smiles my brow adorned, now tears deface.
Thy change is work of tempests, whose descent
Robs thy clear current of its silvery sheen,
Mine of the brilliant eyes and sovran mien
That portion me my bliss or discontent.
As we are thus participant in woe,
Would we were so in all things; and, as pain,
So simultaneous joy might feel! But no!
Flower-fostering Spring shall look and see no stain
In thy clear mirror; but I cannot know
If my lost bliss will ever come again.