Odi Barbare.
XIII DANTE
O Dante, why is it that I adoring
Still lift my songs and vows to thy stern face,
And sunset to the morning grey gives place
To find me still thy restless verse exploring?
Lucia prays not for my poor soul's resting;
For me Matilda tends no sacred fount;
For me in vain the sacred lovers mount,
O'er star and star to the eternal soaring.