SONNET.

THE SHADE OF ALFIERI ADDRESSES THE NORTHUMBERLAND.

PROUD pine of England, o'er the Atlantic sea

Bearing with laurell'd prow to yon far shore,
Of mighty Kings the conquer'd conqueror,

Now doom'd by Kings to exile's dread decree;
When thou arriv'st, sternly and scornfully

His false Gauls' shame, to him, their chief disclose;

Tell Him, Italia's son, Italia's woes,

Her wrongs and insults, chains and slavery.

Tell him, such doom for such a son is meet,

Who deaf to honour's, deaf to nature's call,
Laid his high mother at a harlot's feet:
For such she was, he knew, and such is Gaul,
The tomb of virtue, and of vice the seat,

Haughty or grovelling, still a slave in all.

ALFIERI.

BORN 1749, DIED 1803.

SONETTO.

VICTOR ALFIERI.

O GRAN padre Allighier, se dal ciel miri

Me non indegno tuo discepol starmi,

Dal cor traendo profondi sospiri,

Prostrato innanzi a tuoi funerei marmi ;

Piacciati, deh! propizio à bei desiri,

D'un raggio di tua mente illuminarmi :

Uom che a perenne e prima gloria aspiri

Contro invidia e viltà dee stringer l' armi? Figlio, i' le strinsi, e ben men duol, che dièdi

Nome in tal guisa a gente tanto bassa Da non pur calpestarsi co' miei piedi. Se in me fidi, tuo sguardo non abbassa ; Va, tuona, vinci, e niun costor vedi,

Non che parlarne; ma sovr' essi passa.

SONNET.

ALFIERI AT THE TOMB OF DANTE.

DANTE, from heav'n, where now thou art, incline;

If not profanely I may call thee Sire,

Hear the deep sighs which I thy Son respire,

Prostrate before thy monumental shrine;

Vouchsafe with thy intelligence divine

To gratify no vulgar soul's desire;

"Shall he who glory worships, wreak his ire

"On vice and envy?" "Son, such foes were mine,

"And I did bare my sword; and much I grieve,

"That thus I gave an Immortality

"To wretches, on whose necks I should contemn

"To set my foot; if thou in me believe,

"Go on, and conquer; look not down on them,

"But keep thy course in silence, and pass by."