And the monk and the maiden sang together:—­

  “Iesu, sommo conforto,
  Tu sei tutto il mio amore
  E ’l mio beato porto,
  E santo Redentore. 
    O gran bonta,
    Dolce pieta,
    Felice quel che teco unito sta!

  “Deh, quante volte offeso
  T’ ha l’ alma e ’l cor meschino,
  E tu sei in croce steso
  Per salvar me, tapino!

  “Iesu, fuss’ io confitto
  Sopra quel duro ligno,
  Dove ti vedo afflitto,
  Iesu, Signor benigno!

  “O croce, fammi loco,
  E le mie membra prendi,
  Che del tuo dolce foco
  Il cor e l’ alma accendi!

  “Infiamma il mio cor tanto
  Dell’ amor tuo divino,
  Ch’ io arda tutto quanto,
  Che paia un serafino!

  “La croce e ’l Crocifisso
  Sia nel mio cor scolpito,
  Ed io sia sempre affisso
  In gloria ov’ egli e ito!"[D]

[Footnote D: 

  Jesus, best comfort of my soul,
    Be thou my only love,
  My sacred saviour from my sins,
    My door to heaven above! 
      O lofty goodness, love divine,
      Blest is the soul made one with thine!

  Alas, how oft this sordid heart
    Hath wounded thy pure eye! 
  Yet for this heart upon the cross
    Thou gav’st thyself to die!

  Ah, would I were extended there,
    Upon that cold, hard tree,
  Where I have seen thee, gracious Lord,
    Breathe out thy life for me!

  Cross of my Lord, give room! give room! 
    To thee my flesh be given! 
  Cleansed in thy fires of love and pain,
    My soul rise pure to heaven!

  Burn in my heart, celestial flame,
    With memories of him,
  Till, from earth’s dross refined, I rise
    To join the seraphim!

  Ah, vanish each unworthy trace
    Of earthly care or pride,
  Leave only, graven on my heart,
    The Cross, the Crucified!
]

As the monk sang, his soul seemed to fuse itself into the sentiment with that natural grace peculiar to his nation.  He walked up and down the little garden, apparently forgetful of Agnes or of any earthly presence, and in the last verses stretched his hands towards heaven with streaming tears and a fervor of utterance indescribable.

The soft and passionate tenderness of the Italian words must exhale in an English translation, but enough may remain to show that the hymns with which Savonarola at this time sowed the mind of Italy often mingled the Moravian quaintness and energy with the Wesleyan purity and tenderness.  One of the great means of popular reform which he proposed was the supplanting of the obscene and licentious songs, which at that time so generally defiled the minds of the young, by religious words and melodies.  The children and young people brought up under his influence were sedulously stored with treasures of sacred melody, as the safest companions of leisure hours, and the surest guard against temptation.