I know not if it be the longed-for light
    Of her first Maker which the spirit feels;
    Or if a time-old memory reveals
    Some other beauty for the heart’s delight;
Or fame or dreams beget that vision bright,
    Sweet to the eyes, which through the bosom steals,
    Leaving I know not what that wounds and heals,
    And now perchance hath made me weep outright. 
Be this what this may be, ’tis this I seek: 
    Nor guide have I; nor know I where to find
    That burning fire; yet some one seems to lead. 
This, since I saw thee, lady, makes me weak;
    A bitter-sweet sways here and there my mind,
    And sure I am thine eyes this mischief breed.

XL.

SECOND READING.

LOVE’S LOADSTONE.

Non so se s’ e l’ immaginata luce.

I know not if it be the fancied light
    Which every man or more or less doth feel;
    Or if the mind and memory reveal
    Some other beauty for the heart’s delight;

Or if within the soul the vision bright
    Of her celestial home once more doth steal,
    Drawing our better thoughts with pure appeal
    To the true Good above all mortal sight: 

This light I long for and unguided seek;
    This fire that burns my heart, I cannot find;
    Nor know the way, though some one seems to lead.

This, since I saw thee, lady, makes me weak: 
    A bitter-sweet sways here and there my mind;
    And sure I am thine eyes this mischief breed.

XLI.

LIGHT AND DARKNESS.

Colui che fece.

He who ordained, when first the world began,
    Time, that was not before creation’s hour,
    Divided it, and gave the sun’s high power
    To rule the one, the moon the other span: 
Thence fate and changeful chance and fortune’s ban
    Did in one moment down on mortals shower: 
    To me they portioned darkness for a dower;
    Dark hath my lot been since I was a man. 
Myself am ever mine own counterfeit;
    And as deep night grows still more dim and dun,
    So still of more misdoing must I rue: 
Meanwhile this solace to my soul is sweet,
    That my black night doth make more clear the sun
    Which at your birth was given to wait on you.

XLII.

SACRED NIGHT.

Ogni van chiuso.

All hollow vaults and dungeons sealed from sight,
    All caverns circumscribed with roof and wall,
    Defend dark Night, though noon around her fall,
    From the fierce play of solar day-beams bright. 
But if she be assailed by fire or light,
    Her powers divine are nought; they tremble all
    Before things far more vile and trivial—­
    Even a glow-worm can confound