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And kinder joy to look again for me ;
And heaven itself could not say nay,
As with her gentle veil she wiped the tears away.
Volga la vista desiosa e lieta
How well I call to mind,
When from those boughs the wind
Da be rami scendea,
Dolce ne la memoria,
Una pioggia di fior sovra 'l suo grembo ;
Ed ella si sedea
Umile in tanta gloria,
Coverta già de l' amoroso nembo.
Qual fior cedea sul lembo,
Qual su le trecce bionde ;
Some, snowing, on her drapery stopp’d,
How often then I said,
Inward, and fill'd with dread,
“Doubtless this creature came from Paradise!”
Eran quel dì a vederle :
dir,-Qui regna amore.
Quante volte diss'io,
Allor pien di spavento,
For at her look the while,
Her voice, and her sweet smile,
And heavenly air, truth parted from mine eyes;
I said, as far from men,
“ How came I here, and when!”
I had forgotten; and alas,
Such love for the green bower, I cannot rest elsewhere.
Così carco d'obblio
Il divin portamento,
E’l volto, e le parole, e 'l dolce viso,
M’ aveano, e sì diviso
Da l' imagine vera;
Da indi in quà mi piace
ANDREA DE BASSO'S
ODE TO A DEAD BODY.
FROM THE ITALIAN.
ANDREA DE Basso was a churchman of Ferrara, who lived in the fifteenth century. The translator need not disclaim all participation with the bigotry of his fine poem. A finer rebuke might be given it, by supposing the soul of the deceased to animate her body for the occasion, and to return his “railing accusation” in a spirit of gentle and final knowledge. It must be owned, however, that his ferocity is of a very grand and appalling description. The seeming coarseness of one or two passages (besides being reducible to nothing in the eyes of a philosophy more genial, and more discerning between life and death,) is borne away in the tempest of the speaker's enthusiasm, and in the sense of the great interests which he thought he was advocating.
Rise from the loathsome and devouring tomb,
Risorga da la tomba avara e lorda
La putrida tua salma, O donna cruda,