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A Petrarchan Sonnet by Petronilla de Chastelerault
- As I awoke to winter’s morning glow
- Glist’ning upon the stately, looming towers,
- And on the last of autumn’s shining flowers,
- And on the far-off mountains capped with snow,
- The rosy dawn broke, with the day in tow.
- And by some strange, unnamed higher power,
- Upon my ears, a sound like April showers,
- A silver bell, whose peals were sorrow’s foe.
- For farmers and their wives, joy lives in me,
- For monks and hermits in their lonely cells,
- And for the nobles, living blissfully,
- And for the kings, who rule the fertile dells,
- And there is joy within my heart for he
- Whose winter season’s marked by silver bells.
Written for Altavia Yule 2009 upon the theme of "A 15th Century Yule"