Which they misdeeming hunger's shameless deed, Started in horror from their bed of straw, And cried, "On us, dear father, wouldst thou feed Less grief it were: with flesh thou didst invest These wretched limbs; now strip them in thy need." To soothe their feelings I my own supprest; [rest! Two days we stood in speechless agony; His body at my feet poor Gaddo threw, And then expired. As plain as me you view, With groping arms I felt and called by name : April 1826. TASSO, GERUSALEMME LIBERATA. CANTO PRIMO. II. O MUSA, tu che di caduchi allori Ai di stelle immortali aurea corona; Tu rischiara il mio canto, e tu perdona S'intesso fregi al ver, s' adorno in parte D' altri diletti, che de' tuoi, le carte. III. Sai che là corre il mondo, ove più versi E che 'l vero condito in molli versi, I più schivi, allettando, à persuaso. Così all' egro fanciul porgiamo aspersi Di soavi licor gli orli del vaso: JERUSALEM DELIVERED. CANTO I. II. MUSE, whom no fabled Helicon inspires, Whose brows are with no fabled laurels bound, But thou, who sitt'st among the angelic choirs Nor blame the bard, if haply he be found Some flowers of fancy with the truth to twine, And grace his song with other charms than thine. III. The world, thou know'st, by those is easiest led And oft o'er truths severe sweet numbers shed Charms which the most reluctant hearts decoy. So the cup's margin we with honey spread, Tendering loathed med'cine to some wayward boy; Succhi amari, ingannato, intanto ei beve; E dall' inganno suo vita riceve. IV. Tu, magnanimo Alfonso, il qual ritogli E fra l'onde agitato e quasi assorto; Queste mie carte in lieta fronte accogli, Che quasi in voto a te sacrate i' porto. Forse un dì fia che la presaga penna Osi scriver di te quel ch' or n'accenna. V. È ben ragion, (s' egli avverrà che 'n pace Il buon popol di Cristo unqua si veda, E con navi e cavalli al fero Trace Cerchi ritor la grande ingiusta preda) Ch' a te lo scettro in terra, o, se ti piace, L'alto imperio de' mari a te conceda. Emulo di Goffredo, i nostri carmi Intanto ascolta, e t' apparecchia all' armi. The bitter potion he unconscious drains, And from the cheat new life and vigour gains. IV. Oh, great and good of soul! Alphonso! thou Whose arm first snatched from fortune's cruel hate Me, the world's wandering outcast, long ere now Whelm'd, but for thee, beneath the storms of fate : My humble lay (oh, with auspicious brow Accept the gift!) to thee I consecrate. To thee 'tis due, and soon what now I dare V. For should the day e'er come when peace shall join In one consenting league each Christian land, And Europe's monarchs shall again combine To ravish from the fierce barbarian's hand His ill got prey, the choice shall then be thine To head her armies, or her fleets command. Then let my song thy just protection claim, Thou future rival of great Godfrey's fame. |