"Che fai tu, Luna, in ciel? dimmi, che fai,
Silenziosa Luna?
Sorgi la sera, e vai,
Contemplando i deserti; indi ti posi.
Ancor non sei tu paga
Di riandare i sempiterni calli?
Ancor non prendi a schivo, ancor sei vaga
Di mirar queste valli?"
"The picture of life in the second stanza," says Montefredini, "is as gloomily sublime as anything ever written of a similar nature. It seems laden with the sighs of oppressed humanity. And what repose amidst the universal darkness! What a style!—like the voice of an immortal. All is solemn, immense, eternal. This poem will ever be the poem of all nations—the noblest and grandest expression of human sorrow." Great praise is also due to the skill with which the poet preserves the character he has assumed. The shepherd does not enter into abstruse and subtle speculations—he only gives utterance to a vague wonder at the mystery of things, and this vagueness makes the poem deeply impressive. But still there remains something unsatisfactory in the latter part, and the gloom of the conclusion is exaggerated.
XXIV. "La Quiete dopo la Tempesta" is a feeble copy of verses. There is a lovely touch of natural description:
"Ecco il sereno
Rompe là da ponente, alla montagna;
Sgombrasi la campagna,
E chiaro nella valle il fiume appare."
Otherwise it offers nothing remarkable.
XXV. "Il Sabato del Villaggio" opens with an exquisitely idyllic description of a girl returning with flowers from a country ramble, and of an old woman relating the memories of her youth, while spinning with her neighbours. The description of evening is worthy of Wordsworth:
"Già tutta l'aria imbruna,
Torna azzurro il sereno, e tornan l'ombre
Giù da colli e da' tetti,
Al biancheggiar della recente luna."
But the remainder of the poem is insufferably languid and trivial. Those two pieces are omitted in translation.
XXVI. "Il Pensiero Dominante" is an instance of our poet's mighty originality. It is as profound as a chorus of Æschylus, and fathoming its mystic depths is like venturing on an unknown ocean. The simile of the Pilgrim is strikingly beautiful, and more so in a poet singularly sparing of such ornaments.
XXVII. "Amore e Morte" equals its predecessor in originality, and surpasses it in tenderness. The Greek simplicity and purity of style conceal the morbid and diseased sources of its inspiration. The apostrophe to death is the most fervent prayer ever uttered in song.