(B. G.: BORN JANUARY 28, 1895.)
ROBED as with petals of the red rose-queen,
Unfolding in the dawn’s awakening rays,
She stood, a child, before the boy’s rapt gaze;
And then, a milk-white lily maid, between
Her noble ladies, smiled, with gracious mien;
And then an Angel in the heavenly ways,
She leaned and drew his soul from death’s dark maze,
The lode-star of the mighty Florentine.
And thou, our Beatrice! with thy perfect name,
O daughter of the New World’s Italy,
Be potent still the spell which in it lies:
A light to shine with clear, unwavering flame,
And draw the world – thy Dante – after thee,
Along the paths which lead to Paradise.
(Ina Donna Coolbrith)
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