This solitary hill has always been dear to me
And this hedge, which prevents me from seeing most of
The endless horizon.
On The Portrait Of A Beautiful Woman,
Such _wast_ thou: now in earth below,
Dust and a skeleton thou art.
The Lonely Life
The morning rain, when, from her coop released,
The hen, exulting, flaps her wings, when from
The balcony the husbandman looks forth,
Hymn To The Patriarchs
Illustrious fathers of the human race,
Of you, the song of your afflicted sons
Sempre caro mi fu quest'ermo colle
E questa siepe che da tanta parte
De'l ultimo orrizonte il guarde esclude.
Ma sedendo e mirando interminati
Calm After Storm
The storm hath passed;
I hear the birds rejoice; the hen,
Returned into the road again,
Her cheerful notes repeats. The sky serene