The New Life

PERHAPS they laughed at Dante in his youth,

Told him that truth

Had unappealably been said

In the great masterpieces of the dead:—

Perhaps he listened and but bowed his head

In acquiescent honour, while his heart

Held natal tidings,—that a new life is the part

Of every man that’s born,

A new life never lived before,

And a new expectant art;

It is the variations of the morn

That are forever, more and more,

The single dawning of the single truth.

So answers Dante to the heart of youth!