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How the weak subdues the strong, yea, the foolish bends the wise
By the might of a pure nature, or a pair of pretty eyes?
All his Beata left him, may the breeze make fresh and gay,
Thine airy cheek! I tell thee, thou must not pass away!
Single trophy of his single love, he clasps thee to his soul;
'Tis through Thee, Child, Heaven and Earth to him are made into a whole.
Romagnuolo, 1845.
TO A FRIEND.
Friend, give to me that calmer heart,
For I have learned by you
How 'tis the higher, lovelier part,
To suffer than to do.
Teach me, like thee, serene and still,
To let my life go play,
My humble task to mark its will,
And to approve the way.
