The child his boyhood bore in heed

Nine years. At length the voice brought peace,'Even I, even I am Beatrice.'

All this, being there, we had not seen.
Seen only was the shadow wrought
On the strong features bound in thought;
The vagueness gaining gait and mien ;
The white streaks gathering clear to view
In the burnt beard the women knew.

For a tale tells that on his track,

As through Verona's streets he went,
This saying certain women sent :-
'Lo, he that strolls to Hell and back

At will! Behold him, how Hell's reek
Has crisped his beard and singed his cheek.'

'Whereat' (Boccaccio's words) 'he smil'd For pride in fame.' It might be so :

Nevertheless we cannot know

If haply he were not beguil'd

To bitterer mirth, who scarce could tell

If he indeed were back from Hell.

So the day came, after a space,

When Dante felt assured that there

The sunshine must lie sicklier

Even than in any other place,

Save only Florence.

When that day

Had come, he rose and went his way.

He went and turned out. From his shoes
It may be that he shook the dust,
As every righteous dealer must
Once and again ere life can close:
And unaccomplished destiny
Struck cold his forehead, it may be.

No book keeps record how the Prince Sunned himself out of Dante's reach, Nor how the Jester stank in speech : While courtiers, used to cringe and wince, Poets and harlots, all the throng,

Let loose their scandal and their song.

No book keeps record if the seat

Which Dante held at his host's board

Were sat in next by clerk or lord,—

If leman lolled with dainty feet

At ease, or hostage brooded there,
Or priest lacked silence for his prayer.

Eat and wash hands, Can Grande;-scarce
We know their deeds now: hands which fed
Our Dante with that bitter bread;

And thou the watch-dog of those stairs
Which, of all paths his feet knew well,
Were steeper found than Heaven or Hell.

TROY TOWN.

HEAVENBORN HELEN, Sparta's queen, (0 Troy Town!)

Had two breasts of heavenly sheen,

The sun and moon of the heart's desire:

All Love's lordship lay between.

(0 Troy's down,

Tall Troy's on fire!)

Helen knelt at Venus' shrine,

(0 Troy Town!)

Saying, 'A little gift is mine,

A little gift for a heart's desire.

Hear me speak and make me a sign! (O Troy's down,

Tall Troy's on fire!)

'Look, I bring thee a carven cup;

(0 Troy Town!)

See it here as I hold it up,—

Shaped it is to the heart's desire,

Fit to fill when the gods would sup. (0 Troy's down,

Tall Troy's on fire!)

'It was moulded like my breast;
(0 Troy Town!)

He that sees it may not rest,
Rest at all for his heart's desire.

O give ear to my heart's behest!
(O Troy's down,

Tall Troy's on fire!)

'See my breast, how like it is;
(0 Troy Town!)

See it bare for the air to kiss!
Is the cup to thy heart's desire?

O for the breast, O make it his!
(0 Troy's down,

Tall Troy's on fire!)