Chapter XIX

_O nott’, o dolce tempo benchè nero
(Con pace ogn’opra sempr’al fin assalta),
Ben ved’e ben intende chi t’esalta;
E chi t’onor’, ha l’intellett’intero.
Tu mozzi e tronchi ogni stanco pensiero;
Chè l’umid’ ombra ogni quiet’appalta:
E dall’infima parte alla più alta
In sogno spesso porti ov’ire spero.
O ombra del morir, per cui sì ferma
Ogni miseria l’alma al cor nemica,
Ultimo delli afflitti e buon rimedio;
Tu rendi sana nostra carn’inferma,
Rasciug’i pianti, e posi ogni fatica,
E furi a chi ben vive ogn’ir’e tedio._

_O Night, O season in thy darkness sweet
(For every toil falls peaceful to its close),
He deemeth well who laudeth thy repose,
And who exalteth, payeth homage meet.
Thy dewy shade, with quiet falling slow,
Divides the fret of never-pausing thought;
From deep of being to the summit brought,
In dream thou guidst me where I hope to go.
Shadow of Death, the safe protecting gate
Barred by the soul against her hunter Grief,
Of human woe the final, only cure;
The fever of the blood dost thou abate,
Dry lingering tears, give weariness relief,
And anger steal from him who liveth pure._