It Was The Hour Of Morning, When

Here Let Dead Poetry Rise Once More To Life.

In That Part Of The Book Of My Memory Before The Which Is Little That Can Be Read, There Is A Rubric, Saying, Incipit Vita Nova. Under Such Rubric I Find Written Many Things; And Among Them The Words Which I Purpose To Copy Into This Little Book; If Not All Of Them, At The Least Their Substance.

O Foolish Anxiety Of Wretched Man, How Inconclusive Are The Arguments Which Make Thee Beat Thy Wings Below!

Doubting Pleases Me No Less Than Knowing

E Quindi Uscimmo A Riveder Le Stelle" ("and Thence We Came Forth To See Again The Stars")