University of Virginia Library


39

XXXIII. NOT TOO LONG

O Dante, breathe upon us, that the race
Be perfect and eternal in pure love!
And, Beatrice, thy golden wings above
Our womanhood be calm and quick to place;
Ah! let thy lips and the unforgotten face
Lean over us and bring us into peace.
Have we not loved, and is there no release?
And didst thou leave thy Dante without grace,
To linger, and to struggle, and to sigh?
O Dante, make us worthy, make us strong:
And, Beatrice, be pitiful, be nigh;
And, Dante, burn our passion into song,
And grant that it be sweet, but not too long,
Lest, inadvertent, we let death go by.