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Earth's dark shadows are not all around you, your soul's not entangled--no, caught up in a bright angelic throng, among beating wings leading you to Paradise, you're lost from sight, taken away, freed by His hand. And look, gazing up, turning joyously towards you, the North Star which dwells among stars, our English Pole moving in starlight like yours over this sordid earth, follows you, all beloved companions, immortal Frederic--all sent through Christ's example into a radiant light made by souls roused, driven by rare, perhaps unique strengths welcomed now as the true nobility. |
An image of the Italian text from Visconti's 1840 edition |
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Notes: From Visconti CXCVII:357. See also B S1:140:155; No MSs; Valgrisi 141. Translation: Roscoe 344 (as to Vittoria's long-dead brother, Frederico); Thérault 105. Another poem on the death of Frederigo Fregoso; this one also praises VC's and Fregoso's friend, Reginald Pole. Key |
