We find in reading Petrarch's Odes and Sonnets a certain sameness, whence it is difficult to keep the greater number of the poems distinct from each other in the memory, beautiful though they may be. The same cannot be said of Leopardi's _Canti._ There each poem has a distinct individuality of its own, and makes an indelible impression upon the reader. I will quote a few of the finest, and will begin with one of his most admired masterpieces in which, under the disguise of Sappho before taking the fatal leap from the promontory of Leucadia, he deplores his own physical afflictions. THE LAST SONG OF SAPPHO. (_Ultimo Canto di Saffo_). Thou peaceful night, thou chaste and silver ray Of the declining Moon; and thou, arising Amid the quiet forest on the rocks, Herald of day; O cherished and endeared, Whilst Fate and Doom were to my knowledge closed, Objects of sight! No lovely land or sky Doth longer gladden my despairing mood. By unaccustomed joy we are revived When o'er the liquid spaces of the Heavens And o'er the fields alarmed doth wildly whirl The tempest of the winds, and when the car, The ponderous car of Jove, above our heads Thundering, divides the heavy air obscure. O'er mountain peaks and o'er abysses deep We love to float amid the swiftest clouds; We love the terror of the herds dispersed, The streams that flood the plain, And the victorious, thunderous fury of the main. Fair is thy sight, O sky divine, and fair Art thou, O dewy Earth! Alas! of all This beauty infinite, no slightest part To wretched Sappho did the Gods or Fate Inexorable give. Unto thy reign Superb, O Nature, an unwelcome guest And a disprized adorer doth my heart And do mine eyes implore thy lovely forms; But all in vain. The sunny land around Smiles not for me, nor from ethereal gates The blush of early dawn; not me the songs Of brilliant-feathered birds, not me the trees Salute with murmuring leaves; and where in shade Of drooping willows doth a liquid stream Display its pure and crystal course, from my Advancing foot the soft and flowing waves Withdrawing with affright, Disdainfully it takes through flowery dell its flight.