English

CANDO IV

Rumble of thunder upon my brain deep-drowsed
So shook the sleep that at the heavy sound
I started, like a man by force aroused.
And my now rested eyes casting around
I rose upright, with peering gaze intent
To know the place wherein myself I found.
True it is, I stood on the edge of the descent
Where the hollow of the gulf out of despair

CANTO III

T HROUGH ME THE WAY IS TO THE C ITY OF W OE :
T HROUGH ME THE WAY INTO THE ETERNAL PAIN ;
T HROUGH ME THE WAY AMONG THE LOST BELOW .
R IGHTEOUSNESS DID MY MAKER ON HIGH CONSTRAIN .
M E DID DIVINE Authority UPREAR ;
M E SUPREME W ISDOM AND PRIMAL L OVE SUSTAIN .
B EFORE I WAS, NO THINGS CREATED WERE
S AVE THE ETERNAL, AND I ETERNAL ABIDE .

CANTO II

The day was going, and the darkened air
Was taking from its toil each animal
That is on the earth; I only, alone there,
Essayed to arm my spirit against all
The terror of the journey and pity's plea,
Which memory, that errs not, shall recall.
O Muses, O high Genius, strengthen me!
O Memory, that what I saw hast writ,

CANTO I

Midway the journey of this life I was 'ware
That I had strayed into a dark forest,
And the right path appeared not anywhere.
Ah, tongue cannot describe how it oppressed,
This wood, so harsh, dismal and wild, that fear
At thought of it strikes now into my breast.
So bitter it is, death is scarce bitterer.
But, for the good it was my hap to find,

ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA

" Of many thousand kisses the poor last "
Thus, dying, spake the Roman to the Queen —
She whose undreamed-of face mine eyes had seen
In her pavilion as it floated past.
" Of many thousand kisses the poor last " ;
The Royal Empress took his hands between
Her hands; I saw her tears, and saw her lean
Over his face ... and felt the silence vast.

The death-pale splendid queen, in white and gold

ROMEO AND JULIET

A river through our meadow rushed and sang; —
I knew that it was going to the sea;
So when she leaned out from her balcony,
To talk to Romeo, a sudden pang
Went through my heart, — for while I watched him hang
Within a swaying, moon-lit, leafy tree —
I knew that they were rushing to the sea.
With smiles and tears, and words that thrilled and rang!

I saw her bend above him with soft grace,

AS YOU LIKE IT

I WAS a child, and my green Shakespere took
Into a meadow, underneath a tree
Where oft' I went to read, and eagerly —
With trembling fingers — opened my new book. ...
I liked the pages and their broken look
Of measured lines. ... Then people talked to me,
And to each other, — and I seemed to see
A girl who sighed and held a shepherd's crook;

And then I heard poor Celia, who was tired,

Sylvia , in vain you wou'd evade
The accusation I have laid:
Your witty, criminal excuses,
Prove your intrigues with all the Muses.
Your guilty commerce with the nine,
Appears from each harmonious line;
Your guilt encreases — since 'tis fit,
We now add modesty to wit.

F OR at the Poets last assize,
Held at their temple near the skys,
The Cause was fairly tried at large,
And you found guilty of the Charge .
The Muses gave in their Report ,
Unspotted witnesses at court.

What strains are these, say Muse! which strike my eyes?
How smooth the dangerous soothing numbers rise?
Come all my faults, and follys to my aid,
E'er pride, and vanity my heart invade.
What Muse inspir'd? can they be female lays;
Can woman thus a woman deign to praise?
No 'tis some candid pen, some generous bard,
Who thus vouchsafes unmerited regard.
In whose bright Muse, mine by reflection shines,
And borrows lustre from his brighter lines.

B UT cease — for Rochefaucalt says we design,

Whilst you from Holt sweet accents sound,
Shall neighb'ring bards sit silent round?
So tunes the bird her midnight flute,
In shades — while all around is mute.
Enchanted with your lays too long,
I break from silence into song.

N YMPH of these healing Waters! say,
What power inspires your magic lay?
Smooth as the stream where You reside;
Rich as its vein, your numbers glide.
Say, do those salutary springs,
Pierian like, raise fancy's wings;
Not only cure the sick, the lame,