All grew a blur before my sight,
As when the stealthy white fog slips
At noonday on the staggering ships;
I saw one single spot of light,
Your white face, with its eager lips—
And so I sang to that. O thou
Who liftedst me from out my shame!
Wert thou content when Skagi came,
Put his own chaplet on my brow,
And bent and kissed his own harp-frame?
A DIALOGUE IN PURGATORY
Poi disse un altro.... "Io son Buonconte:
Giovanna o altri non ha di me cura;
Per ch' io vo tra costor con bassa fronte."
Seguito il terzo spirito al secondo,
"Ricorditi di me, che son la Pia;
Siena mi fe, disfecemi Maremma.
Salsi colui che inannellata pria
Disposata m' avea colla sua gemma."
I
BUONCONTE
Sister, the sun has ceased to shine;
By companies of twain and trine
Stars gather; from the sea
The moon comes momently.
On all the roads that ring our hill
The sighing and the hymns are still:
It is our time to gain
Strength for to-morrow's pain.