VII. "Alla Primavera." He was too much of a poet to desert the realms of fancy without a glance of affectionate regret, and in this poem to Spring, he conjures up with magic voice the fables of the past. Between the gloom of Brutus and the radiant loveliness of these visions, how great is the contrast! This is, in my opinion, one of the most elaborate and polished of his productions, and I am again obliged to differ from Montefredini as to the merits of this Ode.
VIII. "Inno ai Patriarchi." This hymn also has the misfortune of not pleasing Montefredini. Still, it contains passages wonderfully picturesque, and is a worthy fruit of our poet's intimate acquaintance with Hebrew literature.
IX. "Ultimo Canto di Saffo." As in the monologue of Brutus, Leopardi uttered his own views of life; so in the "Last Song of Sappho" he expresses how keenly he felt his physical afflictions. How august and calm is the opening, and how beautifully the poet blends his sorrow with the description of Nature! The third stanza rises to Æschylean sublimity. Two spirits seem to be battling for mastery over the poet--the one pronouncing, the other lamenting, his doom. Most beautiful is the effect achieved by the mysterious pathos of the conclusion.
X. "Il Primo Amore." After such a poem we almost doubt whether we shall read further--whether any other poem can be read after that supreme effort. But the "Primo Amore," though different in kind, is, as poetry, equally valuable. The former piece astonished us with its sublimity; this delights us with its delicacy. For depth of feeling and reality of narration I know no love poem that surpasses it; but here and there we find some obscurity and flatness in the diction.
XI. "Il Passero Solitario." Not one of the least admirable qualities of our poet is the great variety of expression he commands. The five patriotic poems may be considered as producing one effect; but each of the following is quite distinct from its predecessor, and the "Passero Solitario" is again quite different from them all. It is also remarkable as the first poem in his later manner--that of the "Canto Notturno" and the "Ginestra." It is an idyl such as Theocritus, or, rather, Wordsworth, might have written. The gloom is past, the despair at rest, a gentle pensiveness alone remains. The picture of the setting sun:
