MADAME D'ALBERT'S LAUGH
by: Clement Marot (1495-1544)
POEMS BY CLEMENT MAROT
- ES! that
fair neck, too beautiful by half,
- Those eyes, that voice, that bloom, all do her honor;
- Yet, after all, that little giddy laugh
- Is what, in my mind, sits the best upon her.
- Good God! 'twould make the very streets and ways,
- Through which she passes, burst into a pleasure!
- Did melancholy come to mar my days
- And kill me in the lap of too much leisure,
- No spell were wanting, from the dead to raise me,
- But only that sweet laugh wherewith she slays me.
- TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH BY
LEIGH HUNT (1784-1859)