Dante Alighieri (1265–1321)

Translated by Thomas William Parsons
From the “Vita Nuova”

SO gentle seems my lady and so pure

When she greets any one, that scarce the eye

Such modesty and brightness can endure,

And the tongue, trembling, falters in reply.

She never heeds, when people praise her worth,—

Some in their speech, and many with a pen,

But meekly moves, as if sent down to earth

To show another miracle to men!

And such a pleasure from her presence grows

On him who gazeth, while she passeth by,—

A sense of sweetness that no mortal knows

Who hath not felt it,—that the soul’s repose

Is woke to worship, and a spirit flows

Forth from her face that seems to whisper, “Sigh!”