Canzoni & Ripostes Part 5

(THE SEA OF GLa.s.s)

I looked and saw a sea roofed over with rainbows, In the midst of each two lovers met and departed; Then the sky was full of faces with gold glories behind them.

LA NUVOLETTA

Dante to an unknown lady, beseeching her not to interrupt his cult of the dead Beatrice. From "Il Canzoniere," Ballata II.

Ah little cloud that in Love's shadow lief Upon mine eyes so suddenly alightest, Take some faint pity on the heart thou smitest That hopes in thee, desires, dies, in brief.

Ah little cloud of more than human fashion Thou settest a flame within my mind's mid s.p.a.ce With thy deathly speech that grieveth;

Then as a fiery spirit in thy ways Createst hope, in part a rightful pa.s.sion, Yet where thy sweet smile giveth His grace, look not! For in Her my faith liveth.

Think on my high desire whose flame's so great That nigh a thousand who were come too late, Have felt the torment of another's grief.

ROSA SEMPITERNA

A rose I set within my "Paradise"

Lo how his red is turned to yellowness, Not withered but grown old in subtler wise Between the empaged rime's high holiness Where Dante sings of that rose's device Which yellow is, with souls in blissfulness.

Rose whom I set within my paradise, Donor of roses and of parching sighs, Of golden lights and dark unhappiness, Of hidden chains and silvery joyousness, Hear how thy rose within my Dante lies, O rose I set within my paradise.

THE GOLDEN SESTINA

FROM THE ITALIAN OF PICO DELLA MIRANDOLA

In the bright season when He, most high Jove, From welkin reaching down his glorying hand, Decks the Great Mother and her changing face, Clothing her not with scarlet skeins and gold But with th' empurpling flowers and gay gra.s.s, When the young year renewed, renews the sun,

When, then, I see a lady like the sun, One fashioned by th' high hand of utmost Jove, So fair beneath the myrtles on gay gra.s.s Who holdeth Love and Truth, one by each hand, It seems, if I look straight, two bands of gold Do make more fair her delicate fair face.

Though eyes are dazzled, looking on her face As all sight faileth that looks toward the sun, New metamorphoses, to rained gold, Or bulls or whitest swans, might fall on Jove Through her, or Phoebus, his bag-pipes in hand, Might, mid the droves, come barefoot o'er our gra.s.s,

Alas, that there was hidden in the gra.s.s A cruel shaft, the which, to wound my face, My Lady took in her own proper hand.

If I could not defend me 'gainst that sun I take no shame, for even utmost Jove Is in high heaven pierced with darts of gold.

Behold the green shall find itself turned gold And spring shall be without her flowers and gra.s.s, And h.e.l.l's deep be the dwelling place of Jove Ere I shall have uncarved her holy face From my heart's midst, where 'tis both Sun and sun And yet she beareth me such hostile hand!

O sweet and holy and O most light hand, O intermingled ivory and gold, O mortal G.o.ddess and terrestrial sun Who comest not to foster meadow gra.s.s, But to show heaven by a likened face Wert sent amongst us by th' exalted Jove,

I still pray Jove that he permit no gra.s.s To cover o'er thy hands, thy face, thy gold For heaven's sufficed with a single sun.

ROME

FROM THE FRENCH OF JOACHIM DU BELLAY

"Troica Roma resurges."

PROPERTIUS.

O thou new comer who seek'st Rome in Rome And find'st in Rome no thing thou canst call Roman; Arches worn old and palaces made common, Rome's name alone within these walls keeps home.

Behold how pride and ruin can befall One who hath set the whole world 'neath her laws, All-conquering, now conquered, because She is Time's prey and Time consumeth all.

Rome that art Rome's one sole last monument, Rome that alone hast conquered Rome the town, Tiber alone, transient and seaward bent, Remains of Rome. O world, thou unconstant mime!

That which stands firm in thee Time batters down, And that which fleeteth doth outrun swift time.

HER MONUMENT, THE IMAGE CUT THEREON

FROM THE ITALIAN OF LEOPARDI

(Written 1831-3 circa)

Such wast thou, Who art now But buried dust and rusted skeleton.

Above the bones and mire, Motionless, placed in vain, Mute mirror of the flight of speeding years, Sole guard of grief Sole guard of memory Standeth this image of the beauty sped.

O glance, when thou wast still as thou art now, How hast thou set the fire A-tremble in men's veins; O lip curved high To mind me of some urn of full delight, O throat girt round of old with swift desire, O palms of Love, that in your wonted ways Not once but many a day Felt hands turn ice a-sudden, touching ye, That ye were once! of all the grace ye had That which remaineth now Shameful, most sad Finds 'neath this rock fit mould, fit resting place!

And still when fate recalleth, Even that semblance that appears amongst us Is like to heaven's most 'live imagining.

All, all our life's eternal mystery!

To-day, on high Mounts, from our mighty thoughts and from the fount Of sense untellable, Beauty That seems to be some quivering splendour cast By the immortal nature on this quicksand, And by surhuman fates Given to mortal state To be a sign and an hope made secure Of blissful kingdoms and the aureate spheres; And on the morrow, by some lightsome twist, Shameful in sight, abject, abominable All this angelic aspect can return And be but what it was With all the admirable concepts that moved from it Swept from the mind with it in its departure.

Infinite things desired, lofty visions 'Got on desirous thought by natural virtue, And the wise concord, whence through delicious seas The arcane spirit of the whole Mankind Turns hardy pilot ... and if one wrong note Strike the tympanum, Instantly That paradise is hurled to nothingness.

O mortal nature, If thou art Frail and so vile in all, How canst thou reach so high with thy poor sense; Yet if thou art n.o.ble in any part How is the n.o.blest of thy speech and thought So lightly wrought Or to such base occasion lit and quenched?

VICTORIAN ECLOGUES

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