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Celestial King! O let thy presence pass
Before my spirit, and an image fair
Shall meet that look of mercy from on high,
Doth meet the look of him, who seeks it there,
FROM THE SPANISH.
LAUGH of the mountain!-lyre of bird and tree !
The soul of April, unto whom are born
How without guile thy bosom, all transparent
Thou shun'st the haunts of man, to dwell in limpid fount !
THE CELESTIAL PILOT.
FROM DANTE. PURGATORIO, II.
AND now, behold! as at the approach of morning,
Appeared to me,
would I again could see it!
A light along the sea, so swiftly coming,
And when therefrom, I had withdrawn a little
Thereafter on all sides of it appeared,
My master yet had uttered not a word,
He cried aloud; Quick, quick, and bow the knee! Behold the Angel of God! fold up thy hands! Henceforward shalt thou see such officers!
See, how he scorns all human arguments,
So that no oar he wants, nor other sail
See how he holds them, pointed straight to heaven, Fanning the air with the eternal pinions,
That do not moult themselves like mortal hair!