. Florence in poetry, history and art . th had claimed thy lady for a prey; In fear thereof, he fed her with thy heart. But when he seemed in sorrow to depart,Sweet was thy dream, for by that sign, I say,Surely the opposite shall come to pass. —Translated by Dante Gabriel Rossetti. BEATA BEATRIX. And was it thine, the light whose radiance shedLoves halo round the gloom of Dantes brow?Was thine the hand that touched his hand, and thouThe spirit to his inmost spirit wed?0 gentle, 0 most pure, what shall be saidIn praise of thee to whom Loves minstrels bow?0 heart that held his heart forever nowT
. Florence in poetry, history and art . th had claimed thy lady for a prey; In fear thereof, he fed her with thy heart. But when he seemed in sorrow to depart,Sweet was thy dream, for by that sign, I say,Surely the opposite shall come to pass. —Translated by Dante Gabriel Rossetti. BEATA BEATRIX. And was it thine, the light whose radiance shedLoves halo round the gloom of Dantes brow?Was thine the hand that touched his hand, and thouThe spirit to his inmost spirit wed?0 gentle, 0 most pure, what shall be saidIn praise of thee to whom Loves minstrels bow?0 heart that held his heart forever nowThou with his glory shall be , mid the twilight of the waning years,Firenze claims once more our love, our tears;But thou, triumphant on the throne of song—By Mary seated in the realm above—0 give us of that gift than death more strong,The loving spirit that won Dantes love. —Samuel Waddington. Dante once prepared to paint an angel:Whom to please? You whisper, he mused and traced it and retraced it, 80. Beata Heatii\ Rossrtti Dante and Beatrice. (Peradventure with a pen corrodedStill by drops of that hot ink he dipped for,When, his left-hand in the hair o the wicked,Back he held the brow, and pricked its stigma,Bit into the live mans flesh for parchment,Loosed him, laughed to see the writing rankle,Let the wretch go festering through Florence),Dante, who loved well because he hated,Bated wickedness that hinders loving,Dante, standing, studying his angel,—[n there broke the folk of his he, Certain people of importance(Such he gave his daily dreadful line to)Entered and would seize the the poet, Then I stopped my painting. You and I will never see that he mused on love and Beatrice,While he softened oer his outlined angel,[n they broke, those * People of importance,We and Bice the loss forever. —Robert Browning. ON THE VITA NUOVA OF DANTE. ;As he that loves oft looks on the dear form And guesses how it gre
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