N 



The Author Addresses His Friend 



To MELVILLE BEST ANDERSON, ON THE COMPLETION OF 

 His AND DANTE'S "DiviNA COMMEDIA" 



L'INFERNO 



Two poets only write in TERZA RIMA, 



And on their trail I follow hard today. 



Hard, I repeat, for 'tis a crafty scheme a 

 Plan to promote an everflowing lay, 



For there's no way to stop when all is said; 



The wildering triplets writhe on ceaselessly. 



But wait, I have a most congenial Thema, 

 My welcome task a fragrant wreath to lay, 

 And I must hasten lest its perfume shed. 



A scene historic clings in memory; 

 By Arno's bank, six centuries agone, 

 A poet stood in noble dignity, 



A crown of Laurel o'er his graying hair 

 And at his feet the Mighty of the Day! 

 With sainted Beatrice bending down, 



Embrasured in celestial balcony! 



My role though humble is yet most sincere, 

 In loving friendship, trust me, it is done; 

 Though Pennyroyal mine, instead of Bay, 

 I venture where mere angels fear to tread, 

 And on your brow I wreathe it, Anderson ! 



The 



poet's 



cunning 



art 



Dante 



in 



Florence 



Anderson 



at 



Palo Alto 



IL PURGATORIO 



I mind me of a broadly ample plain 

 Its undulations stretching far and wide 

 Verdant beneath revivifying rain, 



Yet undistinguished all; from side to side, 

 Amidst fatiguing uniformity, 

 Mole-hill and ant-hill petty men have tried 



To build as if in futile rivalry. 



The 



monotonous 

 delta 



C833 3 



