on its waters four white sails rocked slowly to and fro in the sun,
whose dazzling rays were quivering over sea and land and sky.
I watched the happy mother walking in the sunlight;
I watched the mother: thoughtful I watched my brother,
him who now lies at rest on the flowering banks of the Arno,
while she is sleeping alone in the solemn shade of Certosa.
Thoughtful I gazed, and wondered if still they live,
and, mindful of my grief, come back from where
their happy years glide on 'mid forms well known.
So passed the vision blessed; quick with my nap it went—