Earth's dark shadows are not all around you,
your soul's not entangled--no, caught up in
a bright angelic throng, among beating
wings leading you to Paradise, you're lost
from sight, taken away, freed by His hand.
And look, gazing up, turning joyously
towards you, the North Star which dwells among stars,
our English Pole moving in starlight like
yours over this sordid earth, follows you,
all beloved companions, immortal
Frederic--all sent through Christ's example
into a radiant light made by souls
roused, driven by rare, perhaps unique strengths
welcomed now as the true nobility.
|An image of the Italian text from Visconti's 1840 edition|
From Visconti CXCVII:357. See also B S1:140:155; No MSs; Valgrisi 141. Translation: Roscoe 344 (as to Vittoria's long-dead brother, Frederico); Thérault 105. Another poem on the death of Frederigo Fregoso; this one also praises VC's and Fregoso's friend, Reginald Pole. Key