Torquato Tasso

“ But what dost thou suppose
The reason of his death?
DAPHNE.
Thine own.
SYLVIA.
My death?
I do not understand thee.
DAPHNE.
The report then
Of thy sad end he heard and he believed;
And it has certainly, by this time, driven him
To some most desperate end on his own part.
SYLVIA.
Nay, thy suspicion will turn out as groundless,
As it has done just now. Every one takes
All possible care of his own life, believe me.
DAPHNE.
Oh Sylvia, Sylvia, thou hast no conception
Of what love's fierceness in a heart can do;
A heart, at least, of flesh and blood, not stone
As thine is. ”

“ That which Death loosens, thou, O Love, dost bind,
Friend thou of peace, as he is friend of war,
Over his triumphs act thou triumpher;
And leading forth two lovely souls well joined,
Openest a face of heaven upon mankind.
So dost thou fit thee for our earthly star.
They wrangle not above. Thou, coming down
Mak'st mild the human spirit, and dost ease
From the only inward hatred, all that own
Thy reign: dost ease a thousand madnesses:
And with thy heavenly touching sendest round
Our smooth and quickened sphere with an eternal sound. ”

“ The noblest shepherds of the woods is dead,
He that was such a gentle spirit, so graceful,
And so beloved by all the nymphs and muses;
He in his prime is dead; and what a death!
CHORUS.
Tell us, I pray thee, all; that we may weep
His loss with thee,—his loss, and our own loss.
SYLVIA
Ah me! why shake I thus, and stand aloof!
I dare not hear! I dare not hear; and must.
Oh my hard heart, my hard and impious heart,
Why dost thou shrink! Come, meet the terrible darts
Which this man carries in his tongue ”