APPENDIX VI. Translations of Elegiac Verses by Girolamo Benivieni and Michelangelo Buonarroti.
(See page 321).
| The heavenly sound is hushed, from earth is riven The harmony of that delighted lyre, Which leaves the world in grief, to gladden heaven. Yea, even as our sobs from earth aspire, Mourning his loss, so ring the jocund skies With those new songs, and dance the angelic choir. Ah happy he, who from this vale of sighs, Poisonous and dark, heavenward hath flown, and lost Only the vesture, frail and weak, that dies! Freed from the world, freed from the tempest-tossed Warfare of sin, his splendor now doth gaze Full on the face of God through endless days. |
| Thou'rt dead of dying, and art made divine; Nor need'st thou fear to change or life or will; Wherefore my soul well-nigh doth envy thine. Fortune and time across thy threshold still Shall dare not pass, the which mid us below Bring doubtful joyance blent with certain ill. Clouds are there none to dim for thee heaven's glow; The measured hours compel not thee at all; Chance or necessity thou canst not know. Thy splendor wanes not when our night doth fall, Nor waxes with day's light however clear, Nor when our suns the season's warmth recall. |
END OF THE FIRST PART.
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SECOND PART
