To the Tragedian E. Rossi

I've seen thee, Rossi, robed in black, give fair
Ophelia's tender heart thy rending blow,
And, tiger mad with love and phrenzied woe,
Read in the handkerchief thy soul's despair.

Macbeth and Lear I've seen, and wept whene'er
I saw thee, who lov'st old Italia so,
Kiss Juliet in her nuptial tomb laid low;
Yet once beyond all these I found thee dare.

For mine the horror and the joy sublime
Of then first listening to the triple rhyme
Sound in thy golden voice its iron swell;

And, lit by flames of the infernal shore,
I saw—and shuddered to my being's core—
The living Dante chant his song of Hell.