Xiii

The star that burns on revolution smote Wild heats and change on thine ascendant sphere, Whose influence thereafter seemed to float Through many a strange eclipse of wrath and fear, Dimming awhile the radiance of thy love. But still supreme in thy nativity, All dark, invidious aspects far above, Beamed one clear orb for thee,-- The star whose ministrations just and strong Controlled the tireless flight of Dante’s song.