Here you will find the Poem Sonnet XIII. From Petrarch of poet Charlotte Smith
OH! place me where the burning moon Forbids the wither'd flower to blow; Or place me in the frigid zone, On mountains of eternal snow: Let me pursue the steps of Fame, Or Poverty's more tranquil road; Let youth's warm tide my veins inflame, Or sixty winters chill my blood: Though my fond soul to Heaven were flown, Or though on earth 'tis doom'd to pine, Prisoner or free--obscure or known, My heart, oh Laura! still is thine. Whate'er my destiny may be, That faithful heart still burns for thee!
