_“Ah mark!” he sang, “the rose but now revealed, Fresh from its veiling sheath of virgin green, Unfolded yet but half, half yet concealed, More fair to see, the less it may be seen. Now view its bare and flaunting pride unsealed; All faded now, as though it ne’er had been The beauteous growth, that while it bloomed retired, A thousand maids, a thousand youths desired._ _“Thus passeth in the passing of a day Life’s flower, with green and roseate tints imbued: Think not, since Spring leads back the laughing May, The mortal bloom shall likewise be renewed. Cull we the rose in morning’s prime, ere grey Dims the fair vault, and cloud and gloom intrude. Cull we Love’s roses in the hour approved, When whoso loves may hope to be beloved.”_ _He ceased, and with one voice the feathered choir, Applauding as it seemed, resume their strain; Again the billing, amorous doves suspire, And every creature turns to love again;[18] Chaste laurel burns, the thrilling sap mounts higher In rugged oaks, light foliage flutters fain; And earth and ocean seem to throb and move With softest sense and sweetest sighs of Love._ The alterations introduced by Tasso when he remodelled his epic amount to an admission of the justice of the charges brought against him, of having deviated too much into picturesque episodes, and been, in short, too lyrical. It might therefore have been expected that he would have taken a supreme place in lyrical poetry, and the anticipation would have been confirmed by the triumph of his _Aminta_. It is not entirely justified by his other lyrical performances; few of his numerous canzoni and multitudinous sonnets being absolutely in the front rank. The cause is probably want of concentration; he was always ready with a sonnet at call, and composed far too many upon petty and trivial occasions. His best lyrics, nevertheless, have a property which no other Italian poetry possesses in like measure--a certain majestic vehemence, like that of a mighty river, or what Shakespeare describes as “the proud full sail of his great verse.” It has even been argued, mainly on the strength of “that affable familiar ghost,” that Tasso was the rival of whom Shakespeare complains; however this may be, no description could better express the peculiarity of his lyrical style. The manner, unfortunately, is often far in advance of the matter. There is no more splendid example, for instance, than his “Coronal”[19] of sonnets, where a sonority and impetuosity that might have celebrated the battle of Lepanto are squandered upon the house of Este. The same qualities, however, are always present when his feelings are deeply moved, as when he accompanies in thought his lady to the verge of the sea: