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That I may kiss thee now for the last Tempt my unquiet mind.—But when time

the roar But for as long as one short kiss may Of Ocean's gray abyss resounds, and live

foam Oh let thy breath flow from thy dying Gathers upon the sea, and vast waves soul

burst, Even to my mouth and heart, that II turn from the drear aspect to the home

Of earth and its deep woods, where That .

interspersed, When winds blow loud, pines make

sweet melody FRAGMENT OF THE ELEGY ON Whose house is some lone bark, whose

toil the sea, THE DEATH OF BION

Whose prey the wandering fish, an evil

lot FROM THE GREEK OF MOSCHUS

Has chosen.-But I my languid limbs Ye Dorian woods and waves lament

will fing aloud,

Beneath the plane, where the brook's Augment your tide, O streams, with

murmuring fruitless tears,

Moves the calm spirit, but disturbs it For the beloved Bion is no more.

not. Let every tender herb and plant and

flower, From each dejected bud and drooping PAN, ECHO, AND THE SATYR

bloom, Shed dews of liquid sorrow, and with

FROM THE GREEK OF MOSCHUS breath Of melancholy sweetness on the wind

Pan loved his neighbour Echo- but Diffuse its languid love; let roses blush,

that child Anemones grow paler for the loss

Of Earth and Air pined for the Satyr Their dells have known; and thou, O

leaping; hyacinth,

The Satyr loved with wasting madness Utter thy legend now—yet more, dumb wild flower,

The bright nymph Lyda, — and so Than “Ah! alas !”—thine is no common three went weeping. grief

As Pan loved Echo, Echo loved the Bion the is no more.

Satyr,
The Satyr Lyda—and so love con-

sumed them.-
FROM THE GREEK OF And thus to each—which was a woful
MOSCHUS

matter

To bear what they inflicted Justice Τάν άλα ταν γλαυκάν όταν άνεμος άτρέμα doomed them; βάλλη--κ.τ.λ.

For in as much as each might hate the WHEN winds that move not its calm

lover,

Each loving, so was hated.—Ye that The azure sea, I love the land no more;

love not The smiles of the serene and tranquil Be warned - in thought turn this exdeep

ample over,

surface sweep

That when ye love—the like return

ye prove not.

What madness is this, Gallus ? Thy

heart's care With willing steps pursues another there.

FROM VERGIL'S TENTH
ECLOGUE

SONNET
[Vv. 1-26]

FROM THE ITALIAN OF DANTE MELODIOUS Arethusa, o'er my verse Shed thou once more the spirit of thy

Dante Alighieri to Guido Cavalcanti stream:

GUIDO, I would that Lapo, thou, Who denies verse to Gallus ? So, when and I, thou

Led by some strong enchantment, might Glidest beneath the green and purple ascend gleam

A magic ship, whose charmed sails Of Syracusan waters, mayst thou flow

should fly Unmingled with the bitter Doric With winds at will where'er our thoughts dew!

might wend, Begin, and, whilst the goats are brows. And that no change, nor any evil chance ing now

Should mar our joyous voyage; but it The soft leaves, in our way let us might be, pursue

That even satiety should still enhance The melancholy loves of Gallus. List! | Between our hearts their strict comWe sing not to the dead : the wild

munity: woods knew

And that the bounteous wizard then His sufferings, and their echoes

would place Young Naiads, in what far Vanna and Bice and my gentle love, woodlands wild

Companions of our wandering, and Wandered ye when unworthy love possessed

With passionate talk, wherever we might Your Gallus ? Not where Pindus is

rove, up-piled,

Our time, and each were as content and Nor where Parnassus' sacred mount, nor

free where

As I believe that thou and I should be. Aonian Aganippe expands ... The laurels and the myrtle-copses dim. The pine-encircled mountain, Mæna. lus,

THE FIRST CANZONE OF THE The cold crags of Lycæus, weep for

CONVITO

would grace

him;

FROM THE ITALIAN OF DANTE

1

And Sylvan, crowned with rustic

coronals, Came shaking in his speed the budding

wands And heavy lilies which he bore: we

Ye who intelligent the third heaven

move, Hear the discourse which is within my

knew Pan the Arcadian.

heart,

now

Which cannot be declared, it seems My spirit wept, the grief is hot even

so new; The Heaven whose course follows your And said, Alas for me! how swift could power and art,

flee Oh, gentle creatures that ye are! me That piteous thought which did my life drew,

console! And therefore may I dare to speak to

And the afficted one questioning you,

Mine eyes, if such a lady saw they Even of the life which now I live-and

never, yet

And why they would . .. I pray that ye will hear me when I I said : Beneath those eyes might cry,

stand for ever And tell of mine own heart this He whom

regards must kill novelty;

with ... How the lamenting spirit moans in it, To have known their power stood me in And how a voice there murmurs against

little stead, her

Those eyes have looked on me, and I Who came on the refulgence of your

am dead. sphere.

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IV

A sweet thought, which was once the Thou art not dead, but thou hast life within

wandered, This heavy heart, many a time and Thou soul of ours, who thyself dost ost

fret, Went up before our Father's feet, A spirit of gentle love beside me said; and there

For that fair lady, whom thou dost It saw a glorious Lady throned aloft ; regret, And its sweet talk of her my soul did | Hath so transformed the life which thou win,

hast led, So that I said, Thither I too will Thou scornest it, so worthless art thou fare.

made. That thought is fled, and one doth And see how meek, how pitiful, how now appear

staid, Which tyrannises me with such fierce Yet courteous, in her majesty she is. stress,

And still call thou her woman in thy That my heart trembles--ye may see

thought; it leap

Her whom, if thou thyself deceivest And on another Lady bids me keep

not, Mine eyes, and says—Who would have Thou wilt behold decked with such blessedness

loveliness, Let him but look upon that lady's eyes, That thou wilt cry [Love] only Lord, lo Let him not fear the agony of sighs.

here Thy handmaiden, do what thou wilt

with her. This lowly thought, which once would

talk with me Of a bright seraph sitting crowned on My song, I fear that thou wilt find but high,

few Found such a cruel foe it died, and so Who fitly shall conceive thy reasoning

III

that grew

Of such hard matter dost thou With perfect joy received the early day, entertain.

Singing within the glancing leaves, whose Whence, if by misadventure chance sound should bring

Kept a low burden to their roundelay, Thee to base company, as chance may do,

Such as from bough to bough gathers Quite unaware of what thou dost around contain,

The pine forest on bleak Chiassi's shore, I prithee comfort thy sweet self When Æolus Sirocco has unbound.

again, My last delight; tell them that they are My slow steps had already borne me o'er dull,

Such space within the antique wood, And bid them own that thou art beautiful.

that I Perceived not where I entered any more,

When, lo! a stream whose little waves MATILDA GATHERING

went by, FLOWERS

Bending towards the left through grass FROM THE PURGATORIO OF DANTE, Upon its bank, impeded suddenly CANTO XXVIII, 11. 1-51

My going on. Water of purest hue AND earnest to explore within-around On earth, would appear turbid and imThe divine wood, whose thick green pure living woof

Compared with this, whose unconcealing Tempered the young day to the sight

dew, I wound

Dark, dark, yet clear, moved under the Up the green slope, beneath the forest's obscure roof,

Eternal shades, whose interwoven looms With slow soft steps leaving the moun- | The rays of moon or sunlight ne'er tain's steep,

endure. And sought those inmost labyrinths, motion-proof

I moved not with my feet, but 'mid the

glooms Against the air, that in that stillness deep Pierced with my charmèd eye contemAnd solemn, struck upon my forehead plating bare,

The mighty multitude of fresh May The slow soft stroke of a continuous ... blooms In which the leaves tremblingly Which starred that night, when, even as

a thing All bent towards that part where earliest That suddenly for blank astonishment The sacred hill obscures the morning air. Charms every sense, and makes all

thought take wing, Yet were they not so shaken from the rest,

A solitary woman! and she went But that the birds, perched on the Singing and gathering flower after flower, utmost spray,

With which her way was painted and Incessantly renewing their blithe quest, besprent.

were

OF DANTE

Bright lady, who, if looks had ever I dare not now thro’ thy degraded state power

Own the delight thy strains inspire-in To bear true witness of the heart within,

vain Dost bask under the beams of love, I seek what once thou wert—we cannot come lower

meet

As we were wont. Again and yet again Towards this bank. I prithee let me Ponder my words: so the false Spirit win

shall fly This much of thee, to come, that I may And leave to thee thy true integrity.

hear Thy song: like Proserpine, in Enna's

glen, Thou seemest to my fancy, singing here

SCENES FROM THE MAGICO And gathering flowers, as that fair

PRODIGIOSO maiden when She lost the spring, and Ceres her more FROM THE SPANISH OF CALDERON dear.

SCENE I.-Enter CYPRIAN, dressed as

a Student ; CLARIN and MOSCon as FRAGMENT

poor Scholars, with books. ADAPTED FROM THE VITA NUOVA Cyprian. In the sweet solitude of

this calm place, What Mary is when she a little smiles

This intricate wild wilderness of trees I cannot even tell or call to mind,

And flowers and undergrowth of odorous It is a miracle, so new, so rare.

plants, Leave me; the books you brought out of

the house SONNET

To me are ever best society.

And while with glorious festival and song, FROM THE ITALIAN OF CAVALCANTI Antioch now celebrates the consecration

Of a proud temple to great Jupiter, GUIDO CAVALCANTI TO DANTE

And bears his image in loud jubilee ALIGHIERI

To its new shrine, I would consume RETURNING from its daily quest, my

what still Spirit

Lives of the dying day, in studious Changed thoughts and vile in thee doth thought, weep to find:

Far from the throng and turmoil. You, It grieves me that thy mild and gentle

my friends, mind

Go, and enjoy the festival; it will Those ample virtues which it did inherit Be worth your pains. You may return Has lost. Once thou didst loathe the multitude

When the sun seeks its grave among the Of blind and madding men-I then loved billows, thee

Which among dim gray clouds on the I loved thy lofty songs and that sweet horizon, mood

Dance like white plumes upon a hearse; When thou wert faithful to thyself and --and here

I shall expect you.

for me

me.

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