University of Virginia Library

Canzone of Monsignior della Casa.

[I.]

Long time I wander'd in uncertain Ways,
And many Years in doubtful Paths I trod,
A weary Traveller, and chang'd them oft,
Finding no rest; both Hills and Vales I pass'd,
O'er craggy Mountains and thro' Desarts wild:
At Land I look'd for Sea, at Sea for Land.
Enrag'd at length, myself I then despis'd,
And my vain Thoughts, that find no Help or Guide.
Blind faithless World, I now too well perceive
How much thy Fruit do's differ from the Flow'r.
Sad Story 'tis to tell what various Woes
In my long Pilgrimage and Banishment
I suffer'd, and of which I see no end,
Unless, thou Lord, with gracious Ray benign
Shew me the Way, and guide my dubious Steps,
When if I stray it is my Fault and Choice.

II.

In my gay Years a new and strange Desire
Sprung up, and with such Pleasures fill'd my Soul,
That never One did Life, or Liberty,
Or Wealth, or if ought dearer is, pursue
So eagerly, as I thy Sweets, O Love.
Now doating on the glances of an Eye,
Now on a snowy Hand; and if from far
Thro' a loose Veil the Golden Ringlets shone,
Or beauteous Feet beneath the flowing Gown
Plaid tripping, (how the Folly I bewail!)
My ravish'd Heart strait like a Bird of Prey
Stoop'd at the Lure; And thus my early Youth
Was by vain Thoughts bewildred and mis-led:

III.

But what does yet my just Repentance more
Embitter, oft I wept, and begg'd for ease
Of my delightful voluntary Pain,
And learn'd in pleasing Accents to complain:
I bore the Cold of many a piercing Night
To bend a stubborn and obdurate Heart,
Which sometime melted at my Woes: 'Tis meet
That my repenting Tears shou'd wash me clean
From those black Stains, and that terrestrial Filth
Which from my Crimes my sullied Soul imbib'd
(Spotless infus'd) nor can it re-ascend
T'its native Heav'n, with such a Load oppress'd;
Unable its lost Beauty to resume
'Till form'd again, and a new Creature made,
By the same Power, that its first Being gave.

IV.

V.

And (as a Pilgrim spurr'd
With dear remembrance of his native Home,
Thro' Woods, o'er Mountains urges on his way)
I labour'd up the craggy Cliff, and strove
To reach the foremost, and to join the Choir
Of those, whose Song immortaliz'd their Names;
My force flagg'd under my ambitious Aims;
Nathless I still pursu'd my way, and robb'd
My Days of Quiet, and my Nights of Sleep,
In vain! That Bard whose Sight a drop serene
Had quench'd, or dim Suffusion veil'd, aspir'd
So high on tow'ring Wing, he mock'd my Pains,
And left me faint, and breathless, all behind.

VI.