IV.

He hears in Roman mouth the Tuscan speech; Hears Naples chant the light of Syracuse, Siena’s tongue, in guileless praise let loose, In its pure utterance ancient glory teach. And tells the poet to the wondering heart Old histories of older Latin days; Of distraught Italy’s sad, stormy ways When feud and treason tore her sons apart, When Dante ate the exile’s bitter bread, When eagles dark swept down upon the land, And lilies white, that should all stain withstand, With deeds unworthy were discolorèd. While from the Vaudois’ shivering mountain crown The echoes of their bard-sung wars sweep down.