CANTATA DELLO STESSO. Finchè un zeffiro soave Tien del mar l'ira placata, Ogni nave È fortunata, È felice ogni nocchier; È ben prova di coraggio Incontrar l'onde funeste, Navigar fra le tempeste, E non perdere il sentier. TRANSLATION. Whilst zephyr sooths the angry waves Of Ocean into rest, Each vessel is in safety borne, And every pilot blest. But he indeed demands our praise, Who stems the tempest's force, And midst the ire of hostile waves, Pursues his destin'd course. SONETTO. DI GIOVANNI DELLA CASA. Oh sonno, oh della cheta, umida, ombrosa Notte placido figlio; oh de' mortali Egri conforto, oblio dolce de' mali, Sì gravi, ond' è la vita aspra, e nojosa: Soccorri al core omai, che langue, e posa Non have; e queste membra stanche, e frali Solleva: a me ten vola, oh sonno, e l'ali Tue brune sovra me distendi, e posa. Ov' è il silenzio, che'l dì fugge, e'l lume? E i lievi sogni, che con non secure Vestigia di seguirti han per costume? Lasso, che'nvan te chiamo, e queste oscure, E gelide ombre invan lusingo; oh piume D'asprezza colme; oh notti acerbe, e dure! SONNET, TO SLEEP. TRANSLATION. Son of the silent, dark, and humid Night, Consoler of the wretched, by whose sway The gloomy train of ills are put to flight, That blacken Life's uncertain, tedious day, O! succour now this restless, pining heart! Give to these feeble, weary limbs repose! Fly to me, Sleep! and let thy sombre wings Over my couch their dusky plumes disclose! O! where is Silence, who avoids the light? Where the wild dreams that flutter in thy train? Alas! in vain I call thee, cruel Night! And flatter these insensate shades in vain. And oh! without thy cheering dews are shed, How full of hardships is the downy bed! EDITHA. Breathing the violet-scented gale, Near to a river's limpid source, Which, through a wide-extended vale, Wound slowly on its sleeping course, Attended by a youthful pair, With rubied lip and roving eye, Oft would fair Editha repair, And let her children wander nigh. There pleas'd behold their footsteps turn, To each new object in their way, Their ringlets glittering in the sun, Their faces careless, blythe, and gay. Once, when they drest their flaxen hair, With flow'rets wild of various hue, And with a proud, exulting air, To their delighted parent drew: "Ah! thus may every day arise! And pleasure thus your hearts, pervade!" The widow'd mother fondly cries, "Before the youthful blossoms fade. "My sighs are all dispers'd in air, Resign'd to fate, I weep no more, Your welfare now is all my care, Yet am I constant as before. "The world, because a vermil bloom, Tinges my yet unfading cheek, Says I forget my William's tomb, A new and earthly love to seek. "Because I join the social train, With lip that wears a kindred smile; And a gay sonnet's lively strain, Does oft the lonely hour beguile: