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Destined to war from very infancy
Was I, Roberto Dati, and I took
In Malta the white symbol of the Cross.
Nor in life's vigorous season did I shun
Hazard or toil; among the Sands was seen
Of Libya, and not seldom, on the Banks
Of wide Hungarian Danube, 'twas my lot
To hear the sanguinary trumpet sounded.
So lived I, and repined not at such fate ;
This only grieves me, for it seems a wrong,
That stripped of arms I to my end am brought
On the soft down of my paternal home.
Yet haply Arno shall be spared all cause
To blush for me. Thou, loiter not nor halt
In thy appointed way, and bear in mind
How fleeting and how frail is human life.



Not without heavy grief of heart did He,
On whom the duty fell, (for at that time
The Father sojourned in a distant Land)
Deposit in the hollow of this Tomb
A Brother's Child, most tenderly beloved !
FRANCESCO was the name the Youth had borne,
PozzoBONNELLI his illustrious House ;
And, when beneath this stone the Corse was laid,

of all Savona streamed with tears.
Alas! the twentieth April of his life
Had scarcely flowered : and at this early time,
By genuine virtue he inspired a hope
That greatly cheered his Country: to his Kin
He promised comfort; and the flattering thoughts
His Friends had in their fondness entertained, *
He suffered not to languish or decay.

*. In justice to the Author, I subjoin the original.

e degli amici
Non lasciava languire i bei pensieri.

Now is there not good reason to break forth
Into a passionate lament? — O Soul !
Short while a Pilgrim in our nether world,
Do thou enjoy the calm empyreal air ;
And round this earthly tomb let roses rise,
An everlasting spring! in memory
Of that delightful fragrance which was once,
From thy mild manners, quietly exhaled.



PAUSE, courteous Spirit! - Balbi supplicates
That Thou, with no reluctant voice, for him
Here laid in mortal darkness, wouldst prefer
A prayer to the Redeemer of the world.
This to the Dead by sacred right belongs ;
All else is nothing. -- Did occasion suit
To tell his worth, the marble of this tomb
Would ill suffice : for Plato's lore sublime,
And all the wisdom of the Stagyrite,
Enriched and beautified his studious mind :
With Archimedes also he conversed
As with a chosen Friend, nor did he leave
Those laureat wreaths ungathered which the Nymphs
Twine on the top of Pindus. — Finally,
Himself above each lower thought uplifting,
His ears he closed to listen to the Song
Which Sion's Kings did consecrate of old;
And fixed his Pindus

A blessed Man! who of protracted days
Made not, as thousands do, a vulgar sleep;
But truly did He live his life.-Urbino,
Take pride in him!-O Passenger, farewell !



LINES Composed at Grasmere, during a walk, one Evening, after a

stormy day, the Author having just read in a Newspaper that the dissolution of Mr. Fox was hourly expected.

Loud is the Vale! the Voice is up
With which she speaks when storms are gone,
A mighty Unison of streams!
Of all her Voices, One!

Loud is the Vale; - this inland Depth
In peace is roaring like the Sea;
Yon Star upon the mountain-top
Is listening quietly.

Sad was I, even to pain deprest,
Importunate and heavy load ! *
The Comforter hath found me here,
Upon this lonely road;


thousands now are sad
Wait the fulfilment of their fear ;
For he must die who is their stay,
Their glory disappear.


Importuna e grave salma.


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