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This latter mood is in general the more characteristic of Petrarch. Towards the end it prevails more and more, but the same falling-off is observable as in the former book. Petrarch’s religious sonnets are exquisite when they involve a direct vision of Laura, but otherwise they are apt to become tame and conventional. It is almost a pity that the most notable exception should ever have been written, though it ranks among his masterpieces:

Ever do I lament the days gone by, When adoration of a mortal thing Bound me to earth, though gifted with a wing That haply had upraised me to the sky. Thou, unto whom unveiled my errors lie, Celestial, unbeheld, eternal King, Help to the frail and straying spirit bring, And lack of grace with grace of Thine supply. So shall the life in storm and warfare spent In peaceful haven close; if here in vain Her tarrying, seemly her departure be. Aid me to live the little life yet lent; Expiring strength with Thy strong arm sustain: Thou knowest I have hope in none but Thee.