The diver at Sorrento from beneath The vitreous indigo, who swiftly riseth, By will and not by action as it seemeth, Moves not more smoothly, and no thought surmiseth How she takes motion from the lustrous sheath Which, as the trace behind the swimmer, gleameth Yet presseth back the æther where it streameth. To her whom it adorns this sheath imparteth The living motion from the light surrounding; And thus my nobler parts, to grief’s confounding, Impart into my heart a peace which starteth From one round whom a graciousness is cast Which clingeth in the air where she hath past. V.—TORNATA Canzon, to her whose spirit seems in sooth Akin unto the feldspar, since it is So clear and subtle and azure, I send thee, saying: That since I looked upon such potencies And glories as are here inscribed in truth, New boldness hath o’erthrown my long delaying, And that thy words my new-born powers obeying— Voices at last to voice my heart’s long mood— Are come to greet her in their amplitude. NOTE. This form is not Provençal, but that of Dante’s matchless “_Voi che intendendo il terzo ciel movete_.” IL CONVITO, II, bar the decasyllabic lines which one can scarcely escape in English but which do not, despite all statements to the contrary, correspond to the hendecasyllabic lines in the Italian. SONNET: CHI È QUESTA? Who is she coming, that the roses bend Their shameless heads to do her passing honour? Who is she coming with a light upon her Not born of suns that with the day’s end end? Say, is it Love who hath chosen the nobler part? Say, is it Love, that was divinity, Who hath left his godhead that his home might be The shameless rose of her unclouded heart? If this be Love, where hath he won such grace? If this be Love, how is the evil wrought, That all men write against his darkened name? If this be Love, if this ....... O mind give place! What holy mystery e’er was noosed in thought? Own that thou scan’st her not, nor count it shame! OF GRACE (BALLATA, FRAGMENT) II Full well thou knowest, song, what grace I mean, E’en as thou know’st the sunlight I have lost. Thou knowest the way of it and know’st the sheen About her brows where the rays are bound and crossed, E’en as thou knowest joy and know’st joy’s bitter cost. Thou know’st her grace in moving, Thou dost her skill in loving, Thou know’st what truth she proveth, Thou knowest the heart she moveth, O song where grief assoneth! CANZON: THE VISION The form is that of Arnault Daniel’s “_Sols sui que sai lo sobrafan quem soris_.” I