_Dialogue Of Florence And Her Exiles._

Per molti, donna.

'Lady, for joy of lovers numberless Thou wast created fair as angels are. Sure God hath fallen asleep in heaven afar, When one man calls the bliss of many his! Give back to streaming eyes The daylight of thy face that seems to shun Those who must live defrauded of their bliss!' 'Vex not your pure desire with tears and sighs: For he who robs you of my light, hath none. Dwelling in fear, sin hath no happiness; Since amid those who love, their joy is less, Whose great desire great plenty still curtails, Than theirs who, poor, have hope that never fails.'