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As when great Jove came down from heaven
To be the guest beneath some mortal roof, And so that earthy eyes should not be blinded By his appearance, he took human form, And thus he came to my modest abode. Without his royal pomp that shines and blinds Henry, elect by Fate to such high power That one word could not hold, nor comprehend - Although thus in disguise, he touched my heart With such a ray of his supernatural merit As quite extinguished all my native vigour, So that, confiding in such great affection, He took my image, in enamelled colour on his departure, with willing heart. Veronica Franco (1546-1591) |
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