grace, for He
    The soul-prayer of the just will never thwart: 
    And if, returning to the amorous strife,
    Its fair desire to teach us to deny,
    Hollows and hillocks in thy path abound,
    ’Tis but to prove to us with thorns how rife
    The narrow way, the ascent how hard and high,
    Where with true virtue man at last is crown’d.

    MACGREGOR.

SONNET XXII.

Piu di me lieta non si vede a terra.

ON THE SAME SUBJECT.

      Than me more joyful never reach’d the shore
    A vessel, by the winds long tost and tried,
    Whose crew, late hopeless on the waters wide,
    To a good God their thanks, now prostrate, pour;
    Nor captive from his dungeon ever tore,
    Around whose neck the noose of death was tied,
    More glad than me, that weapon laid aside
    Which to my lord hostility long bore. 
    All ye who honour love in poet strain,
    To the good minstrel of the amorous lay
    Return due praise, though once he went astray;
    For greater glory is, in Heaven’s blest reign,
    Over one sinner saved, and higher praise,
    Than e’en for ninety-nine of perfect ways.

    MACGREGOR.

SONNET XXIII.

Il successor di Carlo, che la chioma.

ON THE MOVEMENT OF THE EMPEROR AGAINST THE INFIDELS, AND THE RETURN OF THE POPE TO ROME.

      The high successor of our Charles,[P] whose hair
    The crown of his great ancestor adorns,
    Already has ta’en arms, to bruise the horns
    Of Babylon, and all her name who bear;
    Christ’s holy vicar with the honour’d load
    Of keys and cloak, returning to his home,
    Shall see Bologna and our noble Rome,
    If no ill fortune bar his further road. 
    Best to your meek and high-born lamb belongs
    To beat the fierce wolf down:  so may it be
    With all who loyalty and love deny. 
    Console at length your waiting country’s wrongs,
    And Rome’s, who longs once more her spouse to see,
    And gird for Christ the good sword on thy thigh.

    MACGREGOR.

[Footnote P:  Charlemagne.]

CANZONE II.

O aspettata in ciel, beata e bella.

IN SUPPORT OF THE PROPOSED CRUSADE AGAINST THE INFIDELS.

      O spirit wish’d and waited for in heaven,
    That wearest gracefully our human clay,
    Not as with loading sin and earthly stain,
    Who lov’st our Lord’s high bidding to obey,—­
    Henceforth to thee the way is plain and even
    By which from hence to bliss we may attain. 
    To waft o’er yonder main
    Thy bark, that bids the world adieu for aye
    To seek a better strand,
    The western winds their ready