In fair Arezzo's halls and bowers
My Giovanna speeds her hours
Delicately, nor cares
To shorten by her prayers
My days upon this mount of ruth:
If those who come from earth speak sooth,
Though still I call and call,
She does not heed at all.
And if aright your words I read
At Dante's passing, he you wed
Dipped from the drains of Hell
The marriage hydromel.
O therefore, while the moon intense
Holds yonder dreaming sea suspense,
And round the shadowy coasts
Gather the wistful ghosts,
Let us sit quiet all the night,
And wonder, wonder on the light
Worn by those spirits fair
Whom Love has not left bare.