Read "Sonnet 292” by Petrarch.The eyes I spoke of once in words that burn, The arms and hands and feet and lovely faceThat took me from myself for such a spaceOf time and marked me out from other men;The waving hair of unmixed gold that shone,The smile that flashed with the angelic raysThat used to make this earth a paradise,Are now a little dust, all feeling gone;And yet I live, grief and disdain to me,Left where the light I cherished never shows,In fragile bark on the tempestuous sea.Here let my loving song come to a close;The vein of my accustomed art is dry,And this, my lyre, turned at last to tears.