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Michel più che mortal, Angel divino.
Similameate operando all' artista
Dante, Par. xiii. sl. 77.
PROLOGUE AT ISCHIA.
The Castle Terrace. VITTORIA COLONNA and JULIA
then leave me, Julia, and so soon, To pace alone this terrace like a ghost ?
The good Vespasian, an old man, who seemed
tears ; But mine the grief of an impassioned woman, Who drank her life up in one draught of love.
Do not say to-morrow. A whole month of to-morrows were too soon. You must not go. You are a part of me.
I must return to Fondi.
Behold this locket. This is the white hair
I did not mean to chide you.
The old castle Needs not your presence.
No one waits for you. Stay one day longer with me. They who go Feel not the pain of parting; it is they Who stay behind that suffer. I was thinking But yesterday how like and how unlike Have been, and are, our destinies. Your hus
Let your heart Find, if it can, some poor apology For one who is too young, and feels too keenly