The dwellers in that miserable valley, It seems that Circe had them in her pasture. Than other food for human use created, The more it finds the dogs becoming wolves, And well 't will be for him, if still he mind him Thy grandson I behold, who doth become He sells their flesh, it being yet alive; Thereafter slaughters them like ancient beeves; Many of life, himself of praise, deprives. Blood-stained he issues from the dismal forest; He leaves it such, a thousand years from now In its primeval state 't is not re-wooded." Dante Alighieri. 1 The Casentines. The Aretines. Tr. H. W. Longfellow. 3 The Florentines. 4 The Pisans. Arona. STANZAS ADDRESSED TO W. R. TURNER, R. A., ON HIS VIEW OF THE LAGO MAGGIORE FROM THE TOWN OF ARONA. TURNER, thy pencil brings to mind a day When from Laveno and the Beuscer Hill I over Lake Verbanus held my way In pleasant fellowship, with wind at will; Smooth were the waters wide, the sky serene, And our hearts gladdened with the joyful scene; Joyful, for all things ministered delight, The lake and laud, the mountains and the vales; The Alps their snowy summits reared in light, Tempering with gelid breath the summer gales; And verdant shores and woods refreshed the eye, That else had ached beneath that brilliant sky. To that elaborate island were we bound, Look where you will, you cannot choose but see Far off the Borromean saint was seen, Distinct, though distant, o'er his native town, Where his Colossus with benignant mien But no storm threatened on that summer day; The whole rich scene appeared for joyance made; With many a gliding bark the mere was gay, The fields and groves in all their wealth arrayed: I could have thought the sun beheld with smiles Those towns and palaces and populous isles. From fair Arona, even on such a day, When gladness was descending like a shower, Great painter, did thy gifted eye survey The splendid scene; and, conscious of its power, Well hath thine hand inimitable given The glories of the lake and land and heaven. Robert Southey. THE STATUE OF ST. CARLO BORROMEO. RUE fame is this, TRUE through love, and love alone, To stand thus honored where we first saw day; True puissance this, the hand of lawful sway In love alone to lift, that hand whereon, Dove-like, Eternal Peace hath fixed her throne, And whence her blessing wings o'er earth its way; True rule to God belongs. Who share it? They Through whom God's gifts on humankind are strewn. Bless thus thy natal place, great Priest, forever! And thou, Arona, by thy placid bay, Second thy sleepless shepherd's mute endeavor. The choice is thine, if that high Grace, like showers Of sunbeams rained on all thy hearths and bowers, Shall feed thy growth or quicken thy decay! Aubrey de Vere. "YE Arquà. ON THE TOMB OF PETRARCA. E consecrated marbles, proud and dear, Thus Damon prays, while the bright hills and glades Benedetto Varchi. Tr. Anon. PETRARCH'S TOMB. HERE is a tomb in Arqua; THER -reared in air, Pillared in their sarcophagus, repose They keep his dust in Arqua, where he died; A feeling more accordant with his strain And the soft hamlet where he dwelt Is one of that complexion which seems made |