Went down the vale of years; and 'tis their pride An honest pride-and let it be their praise, To offer to the passing stranger's gaze A feeling more accordant with his strain 275 XXXII. And the soft, quiet hamlet where he dwelt Is one of that complexion 1 which seems made 280 285 For they can lure no further; and the ray Of a bright sun can make sufficient holiday, XXXIII. Developing the mountains, leaves, and flowers, If from society we learn to live, 'Tis solitude should teach us how to die ;3 It hath no flatterers; vanity can give No hollow aid; alone-man with his God must strive: 1 Study the meanings of the word "complexion." 2 Archaic form for "idleness." 3 'How blest the Solitary's lot" (ROBERT BURns). 290 295 XXXIV. Or, it may be, with demons,1 who impair The strength of better thoughts, and seek their prey 300 Of moody texture from their earliest day, And loved to dwell in darkness and dismay, Deeming themselves predestined to a doom Which is not of the pangs that pass away; Making the sun like blood, the earth a tomb, The tomb a hell, and hell itself a murkier gloom. XXXV. Ferrara!2 in thy wide and grass-grown streets, 305 310 The wreath which Dante's brow alone had worn before. 315 XXXVI. And Tasso is their glory and their shame. 1 "The struggle is to the full as likely to be with demons as with our better thoughts. Satan chose the wilderness for the temptation of our Savior; and our unsullied John Locke preferred the presence of a child to complete solitude" (BYRON). 2 Once an important town. 3 A noble Italian family. (See Browning's Sordello.) ♦ Tasso's great poem is called Jerusalem Delivered. (See Byron's Lament of Tasso.) And see how dearly earned Torquato's fame, And where Alfonso 1 bade his poet dwell: The miserable despot could not quell 320 The insulted mind he sought to quench, and blend Where he had plunged it. Glory without end Scattered the clouds away; and on that name attend XXXVII. The tears and praises of all time; while thine 325 Of worthless dust, which from thy boasted line Is shaken into nothing-but the link Thou formest in his fortunes bids us think Of thy poor malice, naming thee with scorn: 330 Alfonso! how thy ducal pageants shrink From thee! if in another station born, Scarce fit to be the slave of him thou madest to mourn : XXXVIII. Thou! formed to eat, and be despised, and die, Even as the beasts that perish, save that thou 3 And Boileau, whose rash envy could allow No strain which shamed his country's creaking lyre, That whetstone of the teeth-monotony in wire! 335 340 1 Duke of Ferrara, who imprisoned Tasso as being a madman, because the poet dared to love the duke's sister. 2 A Florentine literary society, Della Crusca, or Academy of Chaff." 3 A French critic who underrated Tasso's poetry. XXXIX. Peace to Torquato's injured shade! 'twas his 345 Each year brings forth its millions; but how long And not the whole combined and countless throng Compose a mind like thine? though all in one Condensed their scattered rays, they would not form a sun. XL. Great as thou art, yet paralleled by those, 350 355 Then, not unequal to the Florentine, The southern Scott, the minstrel who called forth A new creation with his magic line, And, like the Ariosto of the North, Sang ladye love and war, romance and knightly worth. 360 XLI. The lightning rent from Ariosto's bust The iron crown of laurel's mimicked leaves; Nor was the ominous element unjust, For the true laurel wreath which Glory weaves Is of the tree no bolt of thunder cleaves, 365 And the false semblance but disgraced his brow; 1 Dante and Ariosto. The first part of Dante's greatest poem is called Inferno. Ariosto's Orlando Furioso is largely a poem of chivalry. Yet still, if fondly Superstition grieves, Know, that the lightning sanctifies below Whate'er it strikes;-yon head is doubly sacred now.1 XLII.2 Italia! O Italia! thou who hast The fatal gift of beauty, which became A funeral dower of present woes and past, On thy sweet brow is sorrow plowed by shame, XLIII. Then mightst thou more appall; or, less desired, 370 375 380 For thy destructive charms; then, still untired, Down the deep Alps; nor would the hostile horde Quaff blood and water; nor the stranger's sword 385 Be thy sad weapon of defense, and so, Victor or vanquished, thou the slave of friend or foe. XLIV. Wandering in youth, I traced the path of him,3 1 "Before the remains of Ariosto were removed from the Benedictine church to the library of Ferrara, his bust, which surmounted the tomb, was struck by lightning, and a crown of iron laurels melted away" (Byron). 2 This stanza and the next, as Byron tells us in a note, are mainly a translation of a famous sonnet on Italy, by Filicaja, who died in 1707. 3 Servius Sulpicius. |