the Italian language, and especially for the genius of Dante, that his six sonnets on the Divina Commedia" impress one as the joint efluence of the spirits of the two poets.

It seems most appropriate to print here these six superb sonnets on the great poem of Italy:—

THE DIVINA COMMEDIA.

I.

OFT have I seen at some cathedral door
A laborer, pausing in the dust and heat,
Lay down his burden, and with reverent feet
Enter, and cross himself, and on the floor
Kneel to repeat his paternoster o'er:

Far off the noises of the world retreat;
The loud vociferations of the street
Become an indistinguishable roar.

So, as I enter here from day to day,

And leave my burden at this minster gate,
Kneeling in prayer, and not ashamed to pray,
The tumult of the time disconsolate

To inarticulate murmurs dies away,
While the eternal ages watch and wait.

II.

How strange the sculptures that adorn these towers!
This crowd of statues, in whose folded sleeves
Birds build their nests; while, canopied with leaves
Parvis and portal bloom like trellised bowers,
And the vast minster seems a cross of flowers!
But fiends and dragons on the gargoyled eaves
Watch the dead Christ between the living thieves,

And, underneath, the traitor Judas lowers!

Ah! from what agonies of heart and brain,
What exultations trampling on despair,

What tenderness, what tears, what hate of wrong, What passionate outery of a soul in pain,

Uprose this poem of the earth and air,

This mediæval miracle of song!

III.

I enter, and I see thee in the gloom

Of the long aisles, O poet saturnine!

And strive to make my steps keep pace with thine. The air is filled with some unknown perfume; The congregation of the dead make room

For thee to pass; the votive tapers shine;

Like rooks that haunt Ravenna's groves of pine, The hovering echoes fly from tomb to tomb.

From the confessionals I hear arise
Rehearsals of forgotten tragedies,

And lamentations from the crypts below,
And then a voice celestial that begins
With the pathetic words, " Although your sins
As scarlet be," and ends with "as the snow."

IV.

With snow-white veil, and garments as of flame,
She stands before thee, who so long ago

Filled thy young heart with passion and the woe
From which thy song in all its splendors came;
And while with stern rebuke she speaks thy name,
The ice about thy heart melts as the snow
On mountain heights, and in swift overflow
Comes gushing from thy lips in sobs of shame.

Thou makest full confession; and a gleam
As of the dawn on some dark forest cast
Seems on thy lifted forehead to increase;
Lethe and Eunoe the remembered dream

And the forgoZIEI SOTTOW — bring at last
The periem pardon which is perfect peace.

I nime eyes, and al the windows blaze

fems of saints and holy men who died. Here marred and hereafter glorified: And the great Bose upon its leaves displays Christ's Triumph.. and the angelic roundelays, W suendor por spiendor multiplied; And Beatrice again a Danit's side

No more rebukes, but smiles her words of praise.

And then the organ sounds, and unseen choirs
Sing the old Latin hymns of peace and love
And benedictions of the Holy Ghost ;
And the melodious bells among the spires
O'er all the housetops and through heaven above
Proclaim the elevation of the Host!

ΤΙ.

O star of morning and of liberty!

O bringer of the light whose splendor shines
Above the darkness of the Apennines,

Forerunner of the day that is to be!

The voices of the city and the sea,

The voices of the mountains and the pines,
Repeat thy song till the familiar lines

Are footpaths for the thought of Italy!

Thy fame is blown abroad from all the heights,
Through all the nations; and a sound is heard,
As of a mighty wind, and men devout,
Strangers of Rome, and the new proselytes,
In their own language hear thy wondrous word,
And many are amazed and many doubt.

One of Dante's sonnets in the Italian is inserted as an example of such notable handiwork, welcome to all who are familiar with the language, and no doubt of curious interest to others:

Tanto gentile, e tanto onesta pare

La donna mia, quand' ella altrui saluta,
Ch' ogni lingua divien tremando muta,
E gli occhi non l' ardiscon di guardare.

Ella sen va, sentendosi laudare,
Umilimente d'onestà vestuta ;

E

par che sia una cosa venuta
Di cielo in terra a miracol mostrare.

Mostrasi sì piacente a chi la mira,

Che dà per gli occhi una dolcezza al core,
Che'ntender non la può chi non la pruova.

Miss Louise Imogen Guiney has translated this sonnet so well that it must be given in English also; and here the merits of the two languages may be compared:

So chaste, so noble looks that lady mine

Saluting on her way, that tongues of some
Are mute a-tremble, and the eyes that clomb
High as her eyes, abashed, their gaze decline.
Thro' perils of heard praise she moves benign,
Armored in her own meekness, as if come
Hither from Heaven, to give our Christendom
Even of a miracle the vouch divine.

So with beholders doth her worth avail,

It sheds, thro' sight, a sweetness on the soul, (Alas! how told to one that felt it never?) And from her presence seemeth to exhale

A breath, half solace and of love the whole,
That saith to the bowed spirit "Sigh!" forever.

This sonnet also is by Dante, Miss Guiney's translation:

IO MIA SENTII SVEGLIAR DENTRO ALLO CORE.

Within my bosom from long apathy

Love's mood of tenderness extreme awoke, And, spying him far off, mine eye bespoke Love's self, so joyous scarce it seeméd he, Crying: "Now, verily, pay thy vows to me!

And bright thro' every word his smile outbroke. Then stood we twain, I in my liege lord's yoke, Watching the path he came by, soon to see The Lady Joan and Lady Beatrice

Nearing our very nook, each marvel close

Following her peer, all beauty else above;

And Love said, in a voice like Memory's: "The first is Spring; but she that with her goes, My counterpart, bears my own name of Love!"

Here we will note the fashions in form which the first masters of the sonnet followed and established. The sonnets of Guittone number 217, all but eight of which have the first eight lines rhymed on two rhymes alternately. The other eight observe the Petrarcan arrangement of the octave previously described. Of these, 158 have only four rhymes, and 59 have five. Of the 80 sonnets attributed to Dante, many of them doubtfully, only ten have the two rhymes of the octave alternate, while