Dante.

Dante.


    He liv'd and lov'd; he suffer'd; he was poor;
    But he was gifted with the gifts of Heaven,
    And those of all the week-days that are seven,
    And those of all the centuries that endure.
    He bow'd to none; he kept his honour sure.
    He follow'd in the wake of those Eleven
    Who walk'd with Christ, and lifted up his steven[A]
    To keep the bulwarks of his faith secure.
    He knew the secrets of the singing-time;
    He track'd the sun; he ate the luscious fruit
    Of grief and joy; and with his wonder-lute
    He made himself a name in every clime.
    The minds of men were madly stricken mute
    And all the world lay subject to his rhyme!

[A] Steven, a voice; old word revived.