Of Beatrice de Portinari, on All Saints' Day
Last All Saints' holy-day, even now gone by,
I met a gethering of damozels:
She that came first, as one doth who excels,
Had Love wtih her, bearing her company:
A flame burn'd forward through her steadfast eye,
As when in living fire a spirit dwells:
So, gazing with the boldness which prevails
O'er doubt, I saw an angel visibly.
As she pass'd on, she bow'd her mild approof
And salutation to all men of worth,
Lifting the soul to solemn thoughts aloof.
In Heaven itself that lady had her birth,
I think, and is with us for our behoof:
Blessed are they that meet her on the earth.
translated by Dante Gabriel Rossetti