POETIC TRIBUTES TO DANTE.

TWO SONNETS ON DANTE.

BY MICHAEL ANGELO BUONAROTTI.

Translated from the Italian by DEAN PLUMPTRE (Dante, II. 420).

I.

Into the dark abyss he made his way;

Both nether worlds he saw, and in the might
Of his great soul beheld God's splendor bright,
And gave to us on earth true light of day;

Star of supremest worth with his clear ray,

Heaven's secrets he revealed to our dim sight,
And had for guerdon what the base world's spite
Oft gives to souls that noblest grace display.

Full ill was Dante's life-work understood,

His purpose high, by that ungrateful state,
That welcomed all with kindness but the good.
Would I were such, to bear like evil fate,
To taste his exile, share his lofty mood!
For this I'd gladly give all earth calls great.

II.

What should be said of him speech may not tell ;
His splendor is too great for men's dim sight;
And easier 'twere to blame his foes aright
Than for his poorest gifts to praise him well.

He tracked the path that leads to depth of Hell,
To teach us wisdom, scaled the eternal height,
And Heaven with open gates did him invite,
Who in his own loved city might not dwell.

Ungrateful country, step-dame of his fate,

To her own loss; full proof we have in this
That souls must perfect bear the greatest woe.
Of thousand things suffice it this to state :
No exile ever was unjust as his,

Nor did the world his equal ever know.1

1 Comp. Witte's German translation of these sonnets in Dante-Forschungen,

I., 20.

338

DANTE.

BY LUDWIG UHLAND.

War's ein Thor der Stadt Florenz,
Oder war's ein Thor der Himmel,
Draus am klarsten Frühlingmorgen
Zog ein festliches Gewimmel?

Kinder, hold wie Engelschaaren,
Reich geschmückt mit Blumenkränzen,
Zogen in das Rosenthal

Zu den frohen Festestänzen.

Unter einem Lorbeerbaume

Stand, damals neunjährig, Dante, Der im lieblichsten der Mädchen, Seinen Engel gleich erkannte.

Rauschten nicht des Lorbeers Zweige,
Von der Frühlingsluft erschüttert?
Klang nicht Dante's junge Seele,

Von der Liebe Hauch durchzittert?

Ja! ihm ist in jener Stunde

Des Gesanges Quell entsprungen,

In Sonetten, in Kanzonen

Ist die Lieb' ihm früh erklungen.

Als, zur Jungfrau hold erwachsen,
Jene wieder ihm begegnet,
Steht auch seine Dichtung schon

Wie ein Baum, der Blüthen regnet.

Aus dem Thore von Florenz

Zogen dichte Schaaren wieder,

Aber langsam, trauervoll,

Bei dem Klange dumpfer Lieder.

Unter jenem schwarzen Tuch,

Mit dem weissen Kreuz geschmücket,

Trägt man Beatricen hin,

Die der Tod so früh gepflücket.

Dante sass in seiner Kammer,
Einsam, still, im Abendlichte,
Hörte fern die Glocken tönen

Und verhüllte sein Gesichte.

In der Wälder tiefste Schatten
Stieg der edle Sänger nieder,
Gleich den fernen Todtenglocken
Tönten fortan seine Lieder.

Aber in der wildsten Oede,

Wo er ging mit bangem Stöhnen;
Kam zu ihm ein Abgesandter

Von der hingeschiednen Schönen;

Der ihn führt' an treuer Hand
Durch der Hölle tiefste Schluchten,
Wo sein ird'scher Schmerz verstummte
Bei dem Anblick der Verfluchten.

Bald zum sel'gen Licht empor

Kam er auf den dunkeln Wegen;
Aus des Paradieses Pforte

Trat die Freundin ihm entgegen.

Hoch und höher schwebten Beide

Durch des Himmels Glanz und Wonnen,

Sie, aufblickend, ungeblendet,

Zu der Sonne aller Sonnen;

Er, die Augen hingewendet
Nach der Freundin Angesichte,

Das, verklärt, ihn schauen liess
Abglanz von dem ew'gen Lichte.

Einem göttlichen Gedicht

Hat er alles einverleibet,

Mit so ew'gen Feuerzügen,

Wie der Blitz in Felsen schreibet.

Ja! mit Fug wird dieser Sänger
Als der Göttliche verehret,
Dante, welchem ird'sche Liebe

Sich zu himmlischer verkläret.

UHLAND'S DANTE.

TRANSLATED BY REV. W. W. SKEAT, M.A. (1864).

Was it but the gate of Florence,

Was't the gate of Paradise,
Whence, upon fair May morning,
Poured a troop in festal guise?

Children, fair as troops of angels,

Richly dight with garlands gay, Hastened tow'rd the vale of roses, There to join in dance and play.

Dante, who nine years had numbered, Stood beneath a laurel's shade; Straight his glance discerned an angel In the loveliest youthful maid.

Rustled not the laurel's branches

When the zephyr caught the grove? Trembled not young Dante's spirit, Breathed on by the breath of love?

Yes! within his heart that instant
Forth the fount of music brake;
Soon in canzonets and sonnets
Tenderly his love outspake.

When once more she met the poet
In her prime of maidenhood,
Like a tree that raineth blossoms,
Firm and fair his glory stood.

See! from out the gates of Florence Pours once more a num'rous train;

Slowly, mournfully, it issues

To a sad and plaintive strain.

'Neath a pall of sable velvet

Which a silver cross doth wear, Plucked by Death in bloom of beauty. Beatricé forth they bear.

Dante in his chamber rested

Lonely, still, till sunlight failed, Heard afar the death-bell booming;

Silently his face he veiled.

Through the forest's deepest shadow
Paced the noble bard alone;
Like the death-bell's distant booming,
Sounded then his music's tone.

But within that dreary desert
Full to him of grief and fear,
From the band of souls departed
Came a God-sent messenger,

Who his steps securely guided

Far through Hell's remotest gloom;
Where his earthly grief was silenced,
Seeing souls fulfil their doom. 1

Soon, his gloomy path pursuing,
Came he to the blessed light;
Then, from Heav'n's wide-opened portals.
Came his love, to greet his sight.

Far through Heav'n's delightful regions
Soared on high the favored ones;
She, with eyes intent, unblinded,
Gazing on the Sun of Suns; 2

He, with eyes aside directed

2

Tow'rds his loved one's countenance,

Which, all-glorious, like a mirror,

Shewed him the Eternal's glance.

Shrined in an immortal poem

Is the splendid vision shown,
Written with such fiery traces

As the lightning writes on stone.

Rightly was this poet honored

With the title-" the Divine”-
Dante, who could earthly passion
To celestial love refine.

1 In the first Canto of the "Inferno," Dante describes himself as lost in a dreary forest; where, as he wandered about in terror, he was met by Virgil, the "God-sent messenger," who guided him safely through the realms of Hell. [Note of the translator.]

2" Beatrice tutta nell' eterne ruote [the heavens]

Fissa con gli occhi stava; ed io in lei

Le luci fisse, di lassù remote.”—Paradiso, i. 64–670. "Her eyes fast fixed upon th' eternal wheels,

Beatrice stood unmoved; and I with ken

Fixed upon her, from upward gaze removed.”—

Cary's translation.