In the judgment of some of the greatest poets and literary men the _Sonnet_ is a form of poetry of very high value; in its structure a precious gem. It is of Italian origin and was invented by _Petrarch_ in the 14th century. In his retreat at Vaucluse near Avignon he wrote the greater part of his sonnets, all devoted to the idolatry of woman――to the praise of Laura: 227 of them were written while she was living; and he continued to extol her in 90 sonnets after her death. The laws of the sonnet are these. It has one leading subject and should end with some striking thought, or must bring to a beautiful conclusion or point the images and musings of the first lines and greater part of the poem. It has always 14 lines, falling into two unequal lobes, one of two quatrains, the other of two triplets; or in other words it is composed of four stanzas, the two first of four lines each and the two last of three lines each. Then as to the rhymes,――the first eight lines have only two rhymes, and they always in the same place,――the first, fourth, fifth and eighth lines rhyming; so also the other four. The last six lines admit of a little change, and may have either two or three rhymes; usually the four first lines have alternate rhymes, and the two last are a couplet; but even in this case the triplet form is to be preserved. The distinction of the stanzas is made, not by a separation from each other by wider spaces, but while printed compactly by the lines 1, 5, 9, and 12, projecting to the left; as in Milton's sonnets and in the Venice edition of Petrarch in 1764. Various poets however have unwisely disregarded this rule: and have variously placed their rhymes and their lines at their pleasure. Campbell has translated a few of Petrarch's sonnets, reducing the 14 lines to 12, composed of three similar quatrains, the first and last lines of which rhyme together. But this is destroying the Sonnet. Our admiration of Petrarch should perhaps be a little moderated; for he is full of affected turns and paradoxes and smart antitheses. Speaking of love he says, "O viva morte, O dilettoso male,"――O living death, O most beloved evil! Speaking also of its effect he says in four lines of rhyme, which may be thus translated――without rhyme―― "I find no peace, and am not the subject of war; I fear, and hope, and also burn, and freeze; I fly above the heavens, and walk on the earth; I grasp nothing, and hold the universe in my arms." Addressing a river, in which Laura washed her face, he says, "Thou hast no rock beneath thy waves, which does not burn with the same fires, that are kindled in me." He also said, "O earth, thou art not worthy to be trodden by her feet. She deserves to adorn heaven!" His curious stanza repeating the word _dolce_, sweet, 9 or 10 times may be thus translated: