Will give it thee.' And she: 'Good deed of others
What boots it thee, if thou neglect thine own?
Whence he: 'Now comfort thee, for it behoves me
That I discharge my duty ere I move;
Justice so wills, and pity doth retain me.'
He who on no new thing has ever looked
Was the creator of this visible language,
Novel to us, for here it is not found."

_Longfellow._

"To behold the tablet next,
Which, at the back of Michol, whitely shone,
I moved me. There was storied on the rock
The exalted glory of the Roman prince,
Whose mighty worth moved Gregory to earn
His mighty conquest, Trajan the Emperor.
A widow at his bridle stood, attired
In tears and mourning. Round about them trooped
Full throng of knights; and overhead in gold
The eagles floated, struggling with the wind.
The wretch appeared amid all these to say:
'Grant vengeance, Sire! for, woe beshrew this heart,
My son is murdered.' He replying seemed:
'Wait now till I return.' And she, as one
Made hasty by her grief: 'O Sire! if thou
Dost not return?'--'Where I am, who then is,
May right thee.'--'What to thee is other's good,
If thou neglect thy own?'--'Now comfort thee,'
At length he answers. 'It beseemeth well
My duty be performed, ere I move hence:
So justice wills; and pity bids me stay.'
He, whose ken nothing new surveys, produced
That visible speaking, new to us and strange,
The like not found on earth."--_Cary._

How different is the character of the following description, which fills
the ear with its grand and varied harmony, as it fills the mind with a
rapid succession of pictures!

"Io m'era mosso e seguia volentieri
Del mio maestro i passi, ed amendue
Gia mostravam com'eravam leggieri,
Quando mi disse: Volgi gli occhi in giue;
Buon ti sara per alleggiar la via
Veder lo letto delle piante tue.
Come, perche di lor memoria fia,
Sovr'a'sepolti le tombe terragne
Portan segnato quel ch'elli eran pria;
Onde li molte volte si ripiagne
Per la puntura della rimembranza
Che solo a'pii da delle calcagne:
Si vid'io li, ma di miglior sembianza,
Secondo l'artificio, figurato
Quanto per via di fuor del monte avanza.
Vedea colui che fu nobil creato
Piu d'altra creatura