by Petrarch, translated by William Jones

“ Soine on he-r mantle hung,
Some in her lopks were ftrung,
Like orient gerns in rings of flaming gold;
Some, in a Ipicy cloud
Descending, call'd aloud,
"Here Love and Youth the reins of empire hold." ”

“ My morning couch, and evening haunt, have been.
⁠Well mayst thou blush, my song,
⁠To leave the rural throng,
And fly thus artless to my Laura's ear;
⁠But, were thy poet's fire
⁠Ardent as his desire,
Thou wert a song that heaven might stoop to hear.
↑ M. de Voltaire has given us a beautiful paraphrase of this first stanza, though it is certain that he had never read the ode in the original or at most only thee three first lines of it; for he asserts that the Italian song is irregular, and without rhymes; whereas the stanzas are perfectly regular, and the rhymes very exact. ”