But in these troubled times the “New Life” was drawing to its close.  The spring of 1290 had come, and the poet, now twenty-five years old, sixteen years having passed since he first beheld Beatrice, was engaged in writing a poem to tell what effect the virtue of his lady wrought upon him.  He had written but the following portion when it was broken off, never to be resumed:—­

  “So long hath Love retained me at his hest,
  And to his sway hath so accustomed me,
  That as at first he cruel used to be,
  So in my heart he now doth sweetly rest. 
  Thus when by him my strength is dispossessed,
  So that the spirits seem away to flee,
  My frail soul feels such sweetness verily,
  That with it pallor doth my face invest. 
  Then Love o’er me such mastery doth seize,
  He makes my sighs in words to take their way,
  And they unto my lady go to pray
  That she to give me further grace would please. 
  Where’er she sees me, this to me occurs,
  Nor can it be believed what humbleness is hers.”

“’Quomodo sedet sola civitas plena populo! facta est quasi vidua domina gentium!’ [How doth the city sit solitary that was full of people! how is she become as a widow, she that was great among the nations!][C]

[Footnote C:  Lamentations, I. 1.]

“I was yet engaged upon this Canzone, and had finished the above stanza, when the Lord of justice called this most gentle one unto glory under the banner of that holy Queen Mary whose name was ever spoken with greatest reverence by this blessed Beatrice.[D]

[Footnote D:  There is among the Canzoni of Dante one beginning,

  “Morte poich’ io non truovo a cui mi doglia,”

which seems to have been written during the illness of Beatrice, in view of her approaching death.  It is a beautiful and touching poem.  Death is besought to spare that lady, “who of every good is the true gate.”—­“If thou extinguishest the light of those beautiful eyes, which were wont to be so sweet a guide to mine, I see that thou desirest my death.”

  “O Death, delay not mercy, if ’tis thine! 
  For now I seem to see the heavens ope,
  And Angels of the Lord descending here,
  Intent to bear away the holy soul
  Of her whose honor there above is sung.”]

“And although it might give pleasure, were I now to tell somewhat of her departure from us, it is not my intention to treat of it here for three reasons.  The first is, that it is no part of the present design, as may be seen in the proem of this little book.  The second is, that, supposing it were so, my pen would not be sufficient to treat of it in a fitting manner.  The third is, that, supposing both the one and the other, it would not be becoming in me to treat of it, since, in doing so, I should be obliged to praise myself,—­a thing altogether blameworthy in whosoever does it,—­and therefore I leave this subject to some other narrator.