Sonnet XXXVIII

Give back to my eyes, o fountains and rivers,

the waves of powerful currents that are not yours,

which swell you and surge with such force

than was ever in your nature.

And you, dense air, heaven's light

obscuring from my sad eyes, full of sighs,

give them back to my weary heart, and lighten

your dark features to my sight.

Let the earth return to me the traces of my steps,

that the grass may grow where it was crushed;

give back the sounds, Echo, yet deaf to my laments;

their glances back to my eyes, you blessed pupils,

that I may sometime love some other beauty

since with me you are not satisfied.