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The painted bubble instantly doth fall.

Here when shee came, shee 'gan for musique call,
And sung this wooing song, to welcome Him withall:

Loue in the blossoms whear thear blowes
Euery thing that lives or growes:
Loue no med'cine can appease,
He burnes the fishes in the seas;

Not all the skill his wounds can stench,
Not all the sea his fire can quench:
Loue did make the bloody spear
Once a louer's coat to wear,

While in his leaues thear shrouded lay
Sweete birds, for loue that sing and play:
And of all loue's joyfull flame,

I the bud and blossome am:

Only bend Thy knee to mee,

Thy wooeing shall thy winning bee.

See, see the flowers that belowe,

Now as fresh as morning blowe;
And of all, the virgin rose,
That as bright Aurora showes;
Like unto a summer-shade,
But now borne, and now fade.
Euery thing doth passe away,
Thear is danger in delay.
Come, come gather, then, the rose,
Gather it, or it you lose :
All the sand of Tagus' shore
Into my bosome casts his ore:
All the valleys' swimming corne
To my house is yeerely borne;
Euery grape of euery vine
Is gladly bruis'd to make me wine,
While ten thousand kings, as proud,
To carry up my train have bow'd,

And a world of ladies send mee
In my chambers to attend mee:
All the starres in heau'n that shine,
And ten thousand more are mine,,
Only bend thy knee to mee,

Thy wooeing shall thy winning bee.

BEATRICE.

ALIGHIERI DANTE.

I

HAVE beheld, ere now, at break of day

The eastern clime all roseate, and the sky
Opposed, one deep and beautiful serene,
And the sun's face so shaded, and with mists
A-tempered at his rising, that the eye
Long while endured the sight. Thus in a cloud
Of flowers, in white veil and olive-wreathed,
A virgin in my view appeared, under
A green mantle, vested in hue of living flame.
And o'er my spirit that, in former days,
Within her presence had abode so long,

No shuddering terror crept. Mine eyes no more
Had knowledge of her, yet there moved from her
A hidden virtue, at whose touch awaked
The pow'r of ancient love grew strong within me.
Toward me she bent her gaze,

Though from her brow the veil descending suffered not
That I beheld her clearly; then with act full royal

Said, as one who, speaking, keepeth back

The bitterest saying to conclude the speech: "Look at me well. I am, in sooth, I am

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Thy happiness is here?" There her words brake off

And suddenly the angels sang:

"In Thee, O gracious Lord, hath been my hope."

Still she stood,

Immovable, and thus addressed her words
To those bright semblances with pity touched:
"Ye keep your watch in the eternal day
So that nor night nor sleep, with stealthy tread,
Can steal from you one step the ages make
Upon their path. Thence with more heed
I shape mine answer for his ear intended
Who stands there weeping, that the sorrow now
May equal the transgression. This man
Was, in the freshness of his being, gifted so
That in him all the better habits thrived.
These looks sometimes upheld him; for I showed
My youthful eyes, and led him by their light
In upright walking. Soon as I had changed
My mortal for immortal, then he left me
And gave himself to others. When from flesh
To spirit I had risen, I became less dear to him,
And into ways untrue he turned his steps,
Following false images of good that make
No promise perfect. Nor availed me aught
To sue for inspirations, with the which

I, both in dreams of night and otherwise,
Did call him back. Of them so little recked he,
Such depth he fell, that all device was short
Of his preserving, save that he should view
The children of perdition. To this end

I visited the purlieus of the dead, and there one
Received my supplications urged with weeping."

The beauteous dame then beckoned me to follow.
Beatrice upward gazed, and I on her, and saw myself
Arrived where wondrous things engaged my sight.
Whence she, from whom no work of mine was hid,

Turning to me with aspect glad as fair,
Bespake me: "Gratefully direct thy mind
To God, through whom to Heaven we come."
Soon a sight appeared

Which held me fixed; and I saw many a face
All stretched to speak. Sudden, as I perceived them,

I turned mine eyes and nothing saw.

Then turned them back, directed on the light

Of my sweet guide, who, smiling, shot forth beams
From her celestial eyes. "Wonder not thou," she cried,
"At my smiling when I behold thy childish judgment.
True substances are these which thou beholdest,
Hither through failure of their vow exiled.
But speak thou with them; listen and believe
That the true light, which fills them with desire,
Permits not from its beams their feet to stray."

Straight to the shadow, wnich for converse seemed
Most earnest, I addressed me, and began:

66

"O spirit, born for joy! It well would please

If thou wouldst tell me of thy station here."

Whence she, with kindness prompt and eyes glist'ning With smiles: "Our charity bars not the door

To any wish by justice introduced;

Our hearts, whose high affections burn alone
With pleasure, from the Holy Spirit conceived,
Admitted to His order, dwell in joy."
Then saw I clearly how each spot in Heaven
Is Paradise, though with like gracious dew
The supreme virtues shower not over all.
She ceased from further tales, then vanished.

I turned on Beatrice all my gaze.
She looked with eyes that shot forth sparks
Of love celestial in such copious streams,
That virtue sinking in me, overpowered,

I turned, and downward bent, confused my sight.
Not long that mood did she permit, but with a smile
Beaming upon me, thus her words began:

"Now to fulfil each wish of thine remains.
I somewhat further to thy view unfold
That thou mayst see as clearly as myself."

I was not 'ware

That I was wafted up, but the new loveliness
That graced my lady, gave me ample proof.
As in a flame, other lights I saw, in circling motion,
That toward us came, and such "Hosanna!" sounded
As left desire to hear renewed the strain.

Then, parting from the rest, one drew near and sole began:
"We all are ready, at thy pleasure, to do thee gentle service."
"Tell me who ye are ?" I cried. Forthwith it grew in size
And beauty, this augmented joy; and thus it answered:
"This little star is furnished with good spirits,
Whose mortal eyes were busied to that end,

That honor and renown might wait on them.

But it is part of our delight to measure

Our wages with the merit. and admire the close proportion."

With Beatrice I gloriously again was raised aloft
And made the guest of Heaven; and thus she spake
To me: 66
Thank, oh, thank the sun of angels,
Him who, by His grace, to this hath raised thee."

At these words,

Never was heart in such devotion wrapt as mine.
Then saw a bright band in loveliness

Surpassing, who themselves did form the crown,
And us their centre; yet more sweet in voice

Than in their visage beaming. Then one spake :

"Thou fain would hear what plants are these that bloom In the bright garland, which, admiring, girds

This fair dame 'round, who strengthens thee for Heaven,

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