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" A ciascun' alma presa, e gentil core,”

To every captive soul and gentle heart,
For whom I sing, what sorrows strange I prove !
I wish all grace, and may their master, Love,
Present delight and happy hopes impart.
Two-thirds of night were spent, but brightly clear
The stars were shining, when surprised I saw
Love, whom to worship is my will and law;
Glad was his aspect, and he seemed to bear
My own heart in his hand, while on his arms,
Garmented in her many-folded vest,
Madonna lay, with gentle sleep oppressed;
But he awoke her filled with soft alarms,
And with that burning heart in humble guise
Did feed her, till in gloom the vision fled my eyes.

“ Color d'amore, e di pietà sembianti,”

The form of pity and the hue of love,
Never before did beauteous Lady's face,
From gentle looks and sighs deep sorrows move,
Take with such perfect and such wondrous grace
As thine, who late beheld me while I went,
With looks that only pity did bespeak ;
But now my thoughts on thee too frequent bent,
Teach me to fear that with a heart so weak,
My eyes will ever seek thee, and intent
Rest fondly on thy pale and saddened brow-
Sad with that love of grief which in thee dwells;
Thus you their wish increase that tears would flow,
But with that wish my heart so anxious swells,
That in thy presence, captive held, in vain
I seek by tears to mitigate its pain.

L'amaro lagrimar, che voi faceste,”

The bitter tears, my eyes ! which once ye shed
With such a fond and long unchanging woe,
In many a gentle heart deep wonder bred,
And bid soft pity in the bosom glow;
But, ah! I fear that ye could all forget,

my heart join you in the felon wrong,
And let those memories fade which still belong
To her for whom ye were so often wet:
Vain wandering eyes! so do I fear your guile,
That much I dread when you her form admire
To meet one gentle lady's pitying smile.
Oh ne'er forgetful be, till life expire,
Of one sweet mistress who untimely died :-
Thus spoke my heart, and speaking deeply sighed.



Guido! I would that Lapo, thou, and I,

Led by some strong enchantment, might ascend A magic ship, whose charmèd sails should fly

With winds at will, where'er our thoughts might wend : And that no change, nor any evil chance

Should mar our joyous voyage; but it might be That even satiety should still enhance

Between our hearts their strict community, And that the bounteous wizard there would place

Vanna and Bicè, and thy gentle love, Companions of our wanderings, and would grace

With passionate talk, wherever we might rove, Our time !-and each were as content and free As I believe that thou and I should be !

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