XXXIV.
Entering a valley in a sandy waste
Which none was journeying save myself alone,
A dog I noticed, which with piteous tone
In disconcerted grief the wild sands paced;
Now to the sky it howled, its way now traced
Snuffing the dew, now ran, now turned, now stayed,
And its concern by every mark betrayed
Of desolate delay or restless haste.
It was that it had missed its lord that morn,
And felt the separation; mark the pain
Of absence! Much did its distraction move
My pity, and 'have patience, poor forlorn,'
I cried—'I, thy superior, from my love
Am absent too, yet my regret restrain.'
XXXV.
Loud blew the winds in anger and disdain,
And raged the waves, when to his Sestian maid,
Leander, ardent of her charms, essayed
For the last time to swim the stormy main.
Conquered with toil, o'erwearied, and in pain,
More for the bliss which he should lose by death,
Than sorrowful to breathe out his sweet breath
On the vext surge he buffeted in vain,—
Feebly, 'twas all he could, the dying boy
Called to the waves, (but never word of woe
Was heard by them) "if me you must destroy,
This melancholy night, look not so stern;
Vent as you will your rage on my return,
But spare, kind waters, spare me as I go!"
XXXVI. TO THE LADY DONNA MARIA DE CARDONA, MARCHIONESS OF PADULA.
Lady, whose name to high Cardona brings
Fresh praise, whose talents and fair deeds require
Immortal accents from Minturno's lyre,
Tansillo's harp, and polished Tasso's strings;
If force, if fire, if spirit whilst he sings,
Fail not at need thy Lasso's Spanish lute,
Through thee I shall arrive, with daring foot,
At Helicon's steep crown and sky-born springs,
By dulcet sounds that might the waves command,
Accomplishing with ease the ambitious aim:
By ways a wilderness till now, the land
Of storied valour, of romantic fame,
And Tagus, rolling o'er a golden sand,
Pay happy tribute to thy noble name.