Page:The Golden verses of Pythagoras (IA cu31924026681076).pdf/117

 O Musa, tu, che di caduchi allori Non circondi la fronte in Elicona Ma su nel Ciel infra i beati cori, Hai di stelle immortali aurea corona, Tu spira al petto mio celesti ardori, Tu rischiara il mio canto, e tu perdona, S'intesso fregi al ver, s'adorno in parte D'altri diletti, che de' tuoi, le carte.

The captivating enthusiasm of Homer, the majestic simplicity of Vergil are not there; there is a sweetness of expression, a purity of imagery which please. This might be greater, but then the melancholy of the romance would exclude it and the reader would demand the full force of epopœia.

Besides, the Italians have tried, over and over again, to vary the form of their verses; some have wished to measure them by musical rhythm; others have contented themselves with making blank verse. They have neither succeeded completely nor failed completely. Their language sweet and musical lacks force whether in good or in evil. Its words might indeed, strictly speaking, be composed of long and short syllables; but as they terminate, nearly all, in the soft and languid style that we call feminine, it results, therefore, that in the measured verses the poets lack the long syllables to constitute the last foot and to form the spondee; and that in the blank verse they are obliged to terminate them all in the same style; so that with the measure they create only lame verses, and without the rhyme they make them all equally languid. *