The citizens of heaven, when, that first day,
My lady passed from me and went their way,
Of marvel and pity full, did round her press.
"What light is this, and what new loveliness?"
They said among them; "for such sweet display
Did never mount, that from the earth did stray
To this high dwelling, all this age, we guess!"[1]
She, well content her lodging chang'd to find,
Shows perfect, by her peers most perfect placed;
And now and then half turning looks behind
To see if I walk in the way she traced:
Hence I lift heavenward all my heart and mind
Because I hear her pray me to make haste.

[Footnote 1: Pure English of Petrarch's time.]



MILTON'S ITALIAN POEMS.

The Italian scholar will understand that the retention of the feminine
rimes in translation from this language is an impossibility.


I.

O Lady fair, whose honoured name doth grace
Green vale and noble ford of Rheno's stream--
Of all worth void the man I surely deem
Whom thy fair soul enamoureth not apace,