But his singing all is over;
He the dead hath reawakened;
Him from death shall none recover.
To the land of the transfigured,
Lately reawaked, he bore him;
Fondly there he seeks the mistress

Who, he deems, hath gone beforehim; That 'tis Heaven which spreads around him

By the spangled halls he wisses; Yet with passion, Blanca! Blanca ! Calls he through those desert blisses.

Don Macias of Galicia,
Surnamed El Enamorado
Plaining for his true-love, sate in
Tower of Arjonilla's chateau.
With a rich and mighty noble
Lately they to wedlock brought her;
Banned the bard to distant durance
Long whose trusty love had sought her.
Often would some Wanderer listen
As his plaintive lay he uttered;
Often from his grated window
Leaves of tender lyrics fluttered.
Say I not if passer sung them,
Or the Zephyr bore them to her;
But too well the minstrel's loved-one
Learned the plainings of her wooer ;
And too well her jealous consort
Marked it with discerning anguish :--
"Shall I cower before a songster
Who doth in a dungeon languish ?"
Swift across his steed he swung
him,

Lance and shield in battle order,
And for Arjonilla's turrets
Speeded o'er Grenada's border.
Don Macias, the Enamoured,
Stood before the grating ready
Trilled he of his ardent passion,
Graceful on his cithern played he.
In his stirrup rose the noble,
Ruthlessly his weapon swinging
Ah! transfixed is Don Macias,
Like a swan, he swooneth singing.
Then the carl, secure of conquest,
Back to fair Galicia driveth.
Empty vision! falls the poet,
But his lay through time surviveth:
Winged that, and all melodious,
Through the Spanish kingdom
sweeping,

Trilled as Philomel on others,
But on him, as Harpy's weeping.
Sudden from the joyous banquet
Hath the seeming discord hove him
Often from his midnight slumber;

Would the torturous measure move him

Far and near, he heard but citherns
In the garden, in the city;
Voices, as of spirits, breathing
Don Macias' amorous ditty.

DANTE.

Seemed it gate of Florence town?
Gate of heaven it seemed rather
Where on Spring's serenest morning
Throngs in featly guise did gather.
Children fair as troops of angels,
All with garlands richly dighted,
Plied the dance amid the rose-dale
Soon as morn their feast-day lighted.
One, a nine-yeared stripling, Dante,
Neath a bough of laurel leaning,
That she was his guardian angel
Of the fairest maid was weening.
Rustled not the boughs of laurel,
By the airs of spring-tide lifted?
Tinkled not young Dante's spirit,
By the breath of passion rifted?
Yea! from that blest moment found he
Music's wells within him springing;
Found in canzonet and sonnet
There was young affection ringing.
When the maid, to woman waxen,
Came to cheer maturer hours,
Ready was the song to greet her,
Like a tree which raineth flowers.

Now from out the gate of Florence
Once again hath concourse crowded;
But to strains of muffled music,
Melancholy, sorrow-shrouded!
For beneath a pall of black
With a radiant croslet whited,
Bear they Beatrice forth
Whom had death so early blighted.
Dante sate within his chamber
Mute, alone, while twilight glistened;
Veiled his countenance, to tolling

Of the far-off bell he listened.
To the forest's deepest shadows
Then the noble bard descended;
With the muffled peal at distance
Purest melody he blended.
Naithless in the wildest desert
Where he wandered broken-hearted,
Came there delegate unto him
From the beautiful departed;
Convoyed him with trusty hand
Down where hell was deepest rented,
And his earthly pain appeased
By a glimpse of the tormented.
Up again to holy light

Mounted from the darksome shade he;

Then at Paradise's portal
Met him his departed lady;
Upward, upward soar the twain,

Through celestial raptures streaming,

She with gaze unblenched beholding

Light whence suns and moons are beaming;

While he peers with tranced vision
On the lady's mien etherial;
Tracing there a light sublimed
Welling from the fount empyreal.
All is forged on Dante's page
In divinest music, brightening
From the touch of fire as quench-
less

As on rock ere wrote the lightning:
And of right the Bard of Florence
Is "the godlike minstrel" rated;
Dante, he whose earthly passion
Was to heavenly love elated.

As I erst, at Salamanca,
Early in a garden lay,
And to nightingale's intoning
Homer's measures trilled away;
How in shining garments glorious
Helen on the turret trod,
And such power of queenly beauty
To the Trojan senate shewed,
You might hear the whisper circle,
Muttered on each hoary beard,
"Troth, she is of race celestial,
Woman ne'er like her appeared;"
Here as I was fondly musing,
Only on the tale intent,
In the leaves I heard a rustle,
Round my glance, astonied,
To a neighbouring balcony,

went

And what wonder saw I there! Where in shining garments glorious Stood there one like Helen fair; And a greybeard was beside her,

Of so strange a courtesy, I could swear that of the council High of ancient Troy was he; And myself was an Achaian, Who, since that remembered day,

VOL. III.

Oft, as near another Ilium,
By the guarded villa lay.-
Listen to the tale unvarnished;
Came I all the Summer long
To the garden, every evening,
Brought my lute, and brought

my song;

Of my love's distress and pressure

Oft in various measure mourned, Till from out the lattice window

Answer sweet I heard returned. Such delights of word and measure Plied we there a full half-year; Each too much to be permitted

Save half deaf her guardian were ; Heaved he from his bed full often Sleepless, jealous, fraught with fears;

Still unheard remained our voices
As the music of the spheres.
But at length-the night was dread-
ful,

Starless, dusky as the grave-
To my long-accustomed token
No one other answer gave
Save a toothless maiden olden

G

Who at my complaint awoke, And this ancient maiden, Echo, To my cry a murmur spoke, That my lovely one had vanished, Bare the chamber, bare the hall, Bare the bloom-enriched garden, Hill and dale deserted all; Ah! and I had never learned

What her rank, and where her
home;

For with lip and hand she pledged me
Plight of both to overcome.
Then on travel wild resolved I,
Her to seek both far and near;

And my Homer left behind me,
Who myself Ulysses were;
Took the lute, my only consort,
And before each gallery
And beneath each lattice window
Soft essayed my minstrelsy;
Sang in plain and sang in city
Signal to my loved one known,
Which in Salamanca's valley

Erst would I each eve intone; But the answer, the desired,

Sounded ne'er again—and oh ! None but Echo, ancient maiden Murmured response to my woe.

Clarion shrill the trumpet sounded
Near Saint Stephen's at Gormetz,
Where encamped the proud Castilian
Fernand lay, that valiant earl.
Almansor, the Moorish monarch
Rallied there his mighty host
Which, assembled from Cordova,
Now the leaguered city stormed.
Troops of belted knights Castilian
Sit their steeds with lance in rest;
Down the rank with searching vision
Fernand rides, that valiant earl.
Pascal Vivas! Pascal Vivas!
Glory of Castilian knights!
Ready girt is every champion,
Short of thee alone the line.
Thou who erst wast earliest mount-
ed,

Erst the foremost in the fray, Hear'st thou not our present summons?

Not the battle-trumpet's clang?
Failest thou our Christian armies
Now, at this tremendous hour?
Shall thy wreath of glory wither,
Vanish all thy bright renown?
Pascal Vivas nothing heareth;

1.

Far in forest deeps is he,
Where from off a grassy hillock
Juts Saint George's high chapelle,
At the portal stands his steed,
Lies his spear and steel euirass,
And before the holy altar

On his knees the champion prays.
Sunken in a deep devotion
Hears he not the battle's lar❜m,
Which, like wrath of tempest, dully
Through the wooded mountains bays.
Hears he not the chargers neighing,
Not the weapons' hollow clang;
Waketh yet his Patron Saint,
Keeps Saint George a trusty watch.
From the clouds adown descends he,
Girds a knightly armour on,
And, on knightly charger flying,
Courses to the combat forth.
Who like him the Moslems stormëd
Heavenly champion, lightning-flash?
Swift he wins Almansor's colours,
Swift retreat the Moorish bands!-
Pascal now his deep devotion
Endeth in Saint George's fane,
Steppeth from the holy altar,
Findeth steed and steel array.