Rime 08

If I, who am an abject, low-born woman,
Can bear within me such lofty fire,
Why should I not possess at least a little
Poetic power to tell it to the world?
If Love, with such a new unheard-of flint
Lifted me up where I could never climb,
Why cannot I, in an unusual way,
Make pain and pen be equal in myself?
If Love cannot do this by force of nature,
Perhaps as by a miracle he may
Passing and bursting every common measure.
How that can be, I cannot well explain
But yet I feel, because of my great fortune,
My heart imprinted with a strong new style.

Poem topics: , , , , , , , , ,

Rate this poem:

Add Rime 08 poem to your favorites

Add Poet Gaspara Stampa to your favorites

Popular Poets

Lord Houghton, Richard Monckton Milnes (1 poems)
Healer Adam (0 poems)
Frank O'Hara (0 poems)
George Ssali (0 poems)
Archibald Thomas Strong (1 poems)
Arthur William Edgar O'Shaughnessy (2 poems)
Lord Alfred Douglas (3 poems)
Herbalist Donnah (0 poems)
Nandinie Jeda (0 poems)
Amy King (6 poems)

Popular Poems

It came his turn to beg—, by Emily Dickinson
Sanary, by Katherine Mansfield
Soldier Boy, by Robert William Service
Ring The Bells, by Nannie R. Glass
Advice To A Lover, by Anonymous
I’ll Never Love Thee More, by James Graham
I saw no Way—The Heavens were stitched, by Emily Dickinson
The Queen Of Bubbles, by Vachel Lindsay
Desideria, by William Wordsworth
Improvisation, by Hans Christian Andersen