Thirteenth Book

Ismeno sets to guard the forest oldThe wicked sprites, whose ugly shapes affrayAnd put to flight the men, whose labor wouldTo their dark shades let in heaven’s golden ray:Thither goes Tancred hardy, faithful, bold,But foolish pity lets him not assayHis strength and courage: heat the Christian powerAnnoys, whom to refresh God sends a shower.

But scant, dissolved into ashes cold,The smoking tower fell on the scorched grass,When new device found out the enchanter oldBy which the town besieged secured was,Of timber fit his foes deprive he would,Such terror bred that late consumed mass:So that the strength of Sion’s walls to shake,They should no turrets, rams, nor engines make.

From Godfrey’s camp a grove a little wayAmid the valleys deep grows out of sight,Thick with old trees whose horrid arms displayAn ugly shade, like everlasting night;There when the sun spreads forth his clearest ray,Dim, thick, uncertain, gloomy seems the light;As when in evening, day and darkness striveWhich should his foe from our horizon drive.

But when the sun his chair in seas doth steep,Night, horror, darkness thick the place invade,Which veil the mortal eyes with blindness deepAnd with sad terror make weak hearts afraid,Thither no groom drives forth his tender sheepTo browse, or ease their faint in cooling shade,Nor traveller nor pilgrim there to enter,So awful seems that forest old, dare venture.

United there the ghosts and goblins meetTo frolic with their mates in silent night,With dragons’ wings some cleave the welkin fleet,Some nimbly run o’er hills and valleys light,A wicked troop, that with allurements sweetDraws sinful man from that is good and right,And there with hellish pomp their banquets broughtThey solemnize, thus the vain Parians thought.

No twist, no twig, no bough nor branch, therefore,The Saracens cut from that sacred spring;But yet the Christians spared ne’er the moreThe trees to earth with cutting steel to bring:Thither went Ismen old with tresses hoar,When night on all this earth spread forth her wing,And there in silence deaf and mirksome shadeHis characters and circles vain he made:

He in the circle set one foot unshod,And whispered dreadful charms in ghastly wise,Three times, for witchcraft loveth numbers odd,Toward the east he gaped, westward thrice,He struck the earth thrice with his charmed rodWherewith dead bones he makes from grave to rise,And thrice the ground with naked foot he smote,And thus he cried loud, with thundering note:

“Hear, hear, you spirits all that whilom fell,Cast down from heaven with dint of roaring thunder;Hear, you amid the empty air that dwellAnd storms and showers pour on these kingdoms under;Hear, all you devils that lie in deepest hellAnd rend with torments damned ghosts asunder,And of those lands of death, of pain and fear,Thou monarch great, great Dis, great Pluto, hear!

“Keep you this forest well, keep every tree,Numbered I give you them and truly told;As souls of men in bodies clothed beSo every plant a sprite shall hide and hold,With trembling fear make all the Christians flee,When they presume to cut these cedars old:”This said, his charms he gan again repeat,Which none can say but they that use like feat.

At those strange speeches, still night’s splendent firesQuenched their lights, and shrunk away for doubt,The feeble moon her silver beams retires,And wrapt her horns with folding clouds about,Ismen his sprites to come with speed requires,“Why come you not, you ever damned rout?Why tarry you so long? pardie you stayTill stronger charms and greater words I say.

“I have not yet forgot for want of use,What dreadful terms belong this sacred feat,My tongue, if still your stubborn hearts refuse,That so much dreaded name can well repeat,Which heard, great Dis cannot himself excuse,But hither run from his eternal seat,O great and fearful!”—More he would have said,But that he saw the sturdy sprites obeyed.

Legions of devils by thousands thither come,Such as in sparsed air their biding make,And thousands also which by Heavenly doomCondemned lie in deep Avernus lake,But slow they came, displeased all and someBecause those woods they should in keeping take,Yet they obeyed and took the charge in hand,And under every branch and leaf they stand.

When thus his cursed work performed was,The wizard to his king declared the feat,“My lord, let fear, let doubt and sorrow pass,Henceforth in safety stands your regal seat,Your foe, as he supposed, no mean now hasTo build again his rams and engines great:”And then he told at large from part to part,All what he late performed by wondrous art.

“Besides this help, another hap,” quoth he,“Will shortly chance that brings not profit small.Within few days Mars and the Sun I seeTheir fiery beams unite in Leo shall;And then extreme the scorching heat will be,Which neither rain can quench nor dews that fall,So placed are the planets high and low,That heat, fire, burning all the heavens foreshow:

“So great with us will be the warmth therefore,As with the Garamants or those of Inde;Yet nill it grieve us in this town so sore,We have sweet shade and waters cold by kind:Our foes abroad will be tormented more,What shield can they or what refreshing find?Heaven will them vanquish first, then Egypt’s crewDestroy them quite, weak, weary, faint and few:

“Thou shalt sit still and conquer; prove no moreThe doubtful hazard of uncertain fight.But if Argantes bold, that hates so soreAll cause of quiet peace, though just and right,Provoke thee forth to battle, as before,Find means to calm the rage of that fierce knight,For shortly Heaven will send thee ease and peace,And war and trouble mongst thy foes increase.”

The king assured by these speeches fair,Held Godfrey’s power, his might and strength in scorn,And now the walls he gan in part repair,Which late the ram had bruised with iron horn,With wise foresight and well advised careHe fortified each breach and bulwark torn,And all his folk, men, women, children small,With endless toil again repaired the wall.

But Godfrey nould this while bring forth his powerTo give assault against that fort in vain,Till he had builded new his dreadful tower,And reared high his down-fallen rams again:His workmen therefore he despatched that hourTo hew the trees out of the forest main,They went, and scant the wood appeared in sightWhen wonders new their fearful hearts affright:

As silly children dare not bend their eyeWhere they are told strange bugbears haunt the place,Or as new monsters, while in bed they lie,Their fearful thoughts present before their face;So feared they, and fled, yet wist not why,Nor what pursued them in that fearful chase.Except their fear perchance while thus they fled,New chimeras, sphinxes, or like monsters bred:

Swift to the camp they turned back dismayed,With words confused uncertain tales they told,That all which heard them scorned what they saidAnd those reports for lies and fables hold.A chosen crew in shining arms arrayedDuke Godfrey thither sent of soldiers bold,To guard the men and their faint arms provokeTo cut the dreadful trees with hardy stroke:

These drawing near the wood where close ypentThe wicked sprites in sylvan pinfolds were,Their eyes upon those shades no sooner bentBut frozen dread pierced through their entrails dear;Yet on they stalked still, and on they went,Under bold semblance hiding coward fear,And so far wandered forth with trembling pace,Till they approached nigh that enchanted place:

When from the grove a fearful sound outbreaks,As if some earthquake hill and mountain tore,Wherein the southern wind a rumbling makes,Or like sea waves against the scraggy shore;There lions grumble, there hiss scaly snakes,There howl the wolves, the rugged bears there roar,There trumpets shrill are heard and thunders fell,And all these sounds one sound expressed well.

Upon their faces pale well might you noteA thousand signs of heart-amating fear,Their reason gone, by no device they wotHow to press nigh, or stay still where they were,Against that sudden dread their breasts which smote,Their courage weak no shield of proof could bear,At last they fled, and one than all more bold,Excused their flight, and thus the wonders told:

“My lord, not one of us there is, I grant,That dares cut down one branch in yonder spring,I think there dwells a sprite in every plant,There keeps his court great Dis infernal king,He hath a heart of hardened adamantThat without trembling dares attempt the thing,And sense he wanteth who so hardy isTo hear the forest thunder, roar and hiss.”

This said, Alcasto to his words gave heed,Alcasto leader of the Switzers grim,A man both void of wit and void of dreed,Who feared not loss of life nor loss of limb.No savage beasts in deserts wild that feedNor ugly monster could dishearten him,Nor whirlwind, thunder, earthquake, storm, or aughtThat in this world is strange or fearful thought.

He shook his head, and smiling thus gan say,“The hardiness have I that wood to fell,And those proud trees low in the dust to layWherein such grisly fiends and monsters dwell;No roaring ghost my courage can dismay,No shriek of birds, beast’s roar, or dragon’s yell;But through and through that forest will I wend,Although to deepest hell the paths descend.”

Thus boasted he, and leave to go desired,And forward went with joyful cheer and will,He viewed the wood and those thick shades admired,He heard the wondrous noise and rumbling shrill;Yet not one foot the audacious man retired,He scorned the peril, pressing forward still,Till on the forest’s outmost marge he stepped,A flaming fire from entrance there him kept.

The fire increased, and built a stately wallOf burning coals, quick sparks, and embers hot,And with bright flames the wood environed all,That there no tree nor twist Alcasto got;The higher stretched the flames seemed bulwarks tall,Castles and turrets full of fiery shot,With slings and engines strong of every sort;—What mortal wight durst scale so strange a fort?

Oh what strange monsters on the battlementIn loathsome forms stood to defend the place?Their frowning looks upon the knight they bent,And threatened death with shot, with sword and mace:At last he fled, and though but slow he went,As lions do whom jolly hunters chase;Yet fled the man and with sad fear withdrew,Though fear till then he never felt nor knew.

That he had fled long time he never wist,But when far run he had discoverd it,Himself for wonder with his hand he blist,A bitter sorrow by the heart him bit,Amazed, ashamed, disgraced, sad, silent, trist,Alone he would all day in darkness sit,Nor durst he look on man of worth or fame,His pride late great, now greater made his shame.

Godfredo called him, but he found delaysAnd causes why he should his cabin keep,At length perforce he comes, but naught he says,Or talks like those that babble in their sleep.His shamefacedness to Godfrey plain bewraysHis flight, so does his sighs and sadness deep:Whereat amazed, “What chance is this?” quoth he.“These witchcrafts strange or nature’s wonders be.

“But if his courage any champion moveTo try the hazard of this dreadful spring,I give him leave the adventure great to prove,Some news he may report us of the thing:”This said, his lords attempt the charmed grove,Yet nothing back but fear and flight they bring,For them inforced with trembling to retire,The sight, the sound, the monsters and the fire.

This happed when woful Tancred left his bedTo lay in marble cold his mistress dear,The lively color from his cheek was fled,His limbs were weak his helm or targe to bear;Nathless when need to high attempts him led,No labor would he shun, no danger fear,His valor, boldness, heart and courage brave,To his faint body strength and vigor gave.

To this exploit forth went the venturous knight,Fearless, yet heedful; silent, well advised,The terrors of that forest’s dreadful sight,Storms, earthquakes, thunders, cries, he all despised:He feared nothing, yet a motion light,That quickly vanished, in his heart arisedWhen lo, between him and the charmed wood,A fiery city high as heaven up stood.

The knight stepped back and took a sudden pause,And to himself, “What help these arms?” quoth he,“If in this fire, or monster’s gaping jawsI headlong cast myself, what boots it me?For common profit, or my country’s cause,To hazard life before me none should be:But this exploit of no such weight I hold,For it to lose a prince or champion bold.

But if I fly, what will the Pagans say?If I retire, who shall cut down this spring?Godfredo will attempt it every day.What if some other knight perform the thing?These flames uprisen to forestall my wayPerchance more terror far than danger bring.But hap what shall;” this said, he forward stepped,And through the fire, oh wondrous boldness, leapt!

He bolted through, but neither warmth nor heat!He felt, nor sign of fire or scorching flame;Yet wist he not in his dismayed conceit,If that were fire or no through which he came;For at first touch vanished those monsters great,And in their stead the clouds black night did frameAnd hideous storms and showers of hail and rain;Yet storms and tempests vanished straight again.

Amazed but not afraid the champion goodStood still, but when the tempest passed he spied,He entered boldly that forbidden wood,And of the forest all the secrets eyed,In all his walk no sprite or phantasm stoodThat stopped his way or passage free denied,Save that the growing trees so thick were set,That oft his sight, and passage oft they let.

At length a fair and spacious green he spied,Like calmest waters, plain, like velvet, soft,Wherein a cypress clad in summer’s pride,Pyramid-wise, lift up his tops aloft;In whose smooth bark upon the evenest side,Strange characters he found, and viewed them oft,Like those which priests of Egypt erst insteadOf letters used, which none but they could read.

Mongst them he picked out these words at last,Writ in the Syriac tongue, which well he could,“Oh hardy knight, who through these woods hast passed:Where Death his palace and his court doth hold!Oh trouble not these souls in quiet placed,Oh be not cruel as thy heart is bold,Pardon these ghosts deprived of heavenly light,With spirits dead why should men living fight?”

This found he graven in the tender rind,And while he mused on this uncouth writ,Him thought he heard the softly whistling windHis blasts amid the leaves and branches knitAnd frame a sound like speech of human kind,But full of sorrow grief and woe was it,Whereby his gentle thoughts all filled wereWith pity, sadness, grief, compassion, fear.

He drew his sword at last, and gave the treeA mighty blow, that made a gaping wound,Out of the rift red streams he trickling seeThat all bebled the verdant plain around,His hair start up, yet once again stroke he,He nould give over till the end he foundOf this adventure, when with plaint and moan,As from some hollow grave, he heard one groan.

“Enough, enough!” the voice lamenting said,“Tancred, thou hast me hurt, thou didst me driveOut of the body of a noble maidWho with me lived, whom late I kept on live,And now within this woful cypress laid,My tender rind thy weapon sharp doth rive,Cruel, is’t not enough thy foes to kill,But in their graves wilt thou torment them still?

“I was Clorinda, now imprisoned here,Yet not alone within this plant I dwell,For every Pagan lord and Christian peer,Before the city’s walls last day that fell,In bodies new or graves I wot not clear,But here they are confined by magic’s spell,So that each tree hath life, and sense each bough,A murderer if thou cut one twist art thou.”

As the sick man that in his sleep doth seeSome ugly dragon, or some chimera new,Though he suspect, or half persuaded be,It is an idle dream, no monster true,Yet still he fears, he quakes, and strives to flee,So fearful is that wondrous form to view;So feared the knight, yet he both knew and thoughtAll were illusions false by witchcraft wrought:

But cold and trembling waxed his frozen heart,Such strange effects, such passions it torment,Out of his feeble hand his weapon start,Himself out of his wits nigh, after went:Wounded he saw, he thought, for pain and smart,His lady weep, complain, mourn, and lament,Nor could he suffer her dear blood to see,Or hear her sighs that deep far fetched be.

Thus his fierce heart which death had scorned oft,Whom no strange shape or monster could dismay,With feigned shows of tender love made soft,A spirit false did with vain plaints betray;A whirling wind his sword heaved up aloft,And through the forest bare it quite away.O’ercome retired the prince, and as he came,His sword he found, and repossessed the same,

Yet nould return, he had no mind to tryHis courage further in those forests green;But when to Godfrey’s tent he proached nigh,His spirits waked, his thoughts composed been,“My Lord.” quoth he, “a witness true am IOf wonders strange, believe it scant though seen,What of the fire, the shades, the dreadful soundYou heard, all true by proof myself have found;

“A burning fire, so are those deserts charmed,Built like a battled wall to heaven was reared;Whereon with darts and dreadful weapons armed,Of monsters foul mis-shaped whole bands appeared;But through them all I passed, unhurt, unharmed,No flame or threatened blow I felt or feared,Then rain and night I found, but straight againTo day, the night, to sunshine turned the rain.

“What would you more? each tree through all that woodHath sense, hath life, hath speech, like human kind,I heard their words as in that grove I stood,That mournful voice still, still I bear in mind:And, as they were of flesh, the purple bloodAt every blow streams from the wounded rind;No, no, not I, nor any else, I trow,Hath power to cut one leaf, one branch, one bough.”LWhile thus he said, the Christian’s noble guideFelt uncouth strife in his contentious thought,He thought, what if himself in perzon triedThose witchcrafts strange, and bring those charms to naught,For such he deemed them, or elsewhere provideFor timber easier got though further sought,But from his study he at last abraid,Called by the hermit old that to him said:

“Leave off thy hardy thought, another’s handsOf these her plants the wood dispoilen shall,Now, now the fatal ship of conquest lands,Her sails are struck, her silver anchors fall,Our champion broken hath his worthless bands,And looseth from the soil which held him thrall,The time draws nigh when our proud foes in fieldShall slaughtered lie, and Sion’s fort shall yield.”

This said, his visage shone with beams divine,And more than mortal was his voice’s sound,Godfredo’s thought to other acts incline,His working brain was never idle found.But in the Crab now did bright Titan shine,And scorched with scalding beams the parched ground,And made unfit for toil or warlike featHis soldiers, weak with labor, faint with sweat:

The planets mild their lamps benign quenched out,And cruel stars in heaven did signorize,Whose influence cast fiery flames aboutAnd hot impressions through the earth and skies,The growing heat still gathered deeper rout,The noisome warmth through lands and kingdoms flies,A harmful night a hurtful day succeeds,And worse than both next morn her light outspreads.

When Phoebus rose he left his golden weed,And donned a gite in deepest purple dyed,His sanguine beams about his forehead spread,A sad presage of ill that should betide,With vermeil drops at even his tresses bleed,Foreshows of future heat, from the ocean wideWhen next he rose, and thus increased stillTheir present harms with dread of future ill,

While thus he bent gainst earth his scorching rays,He burnt the flowers, burnt his Clytie dear,The leaves grew wan upon the withered sprays,The grass and growing herbs all parched were,Earth cleft in rifts, in floods their streams decays,The barren clouds with lightning bright appear,And mankind feared lest Climenes’ child againHad driven awry his sire’s ill-guided wain.

As from a furnace flew the smoke to skies,Such smoke as that when damned Sodom brent,Within his caves sweet Zephyr silent lies,Still was the air, the rack nor came nor went,But o’er the lands with lukewarm breathing fliesThe southern wind, from sunburnt Afric sent,Which thick and warm his interrupted blastsUpon their bosoms, throats, and faces casts.

Nor yet more comfort brought the gloomy night,In her thick shades was burning heat uprolled,Her sable mantle was embroidered brightWith blazing stars and gliding fires for gold,Nor to refresh, sad earth, thy thirsty sprite,The niggard moon let fall her May dews cold,And dried up the vital moisture was,In trees, in plants, in herbs, in flowers, in grass.

Sleep to his quiet dales exiled fledFrom these unquiet nights, and oft in vainThe soldiers restless sought the god in bed,But most for thirst they mourned and most complain;For Juda’s tyrant had strong poison shed,Poison that breeds more woe and deadly pain,Than Acheron or Stygian waters bring,In every fountain, cistern, well and spring:

And little Siloe that his store bestowsOf purest crystal on the Christian bands,The pebbles naked in his channel showsAnd scantly glides above the scorched sands,Nor Po in May when o’er his banks he flows,Nor Ganges, waterer of the Indian lands,Nor seven-mouthed Nile that yields all Egypt drink,To quench their thirst the men sufficient think.

He that the gliding rivers erst had seenAdown their verdant channels gently rolled,Or falling streams which to the valleys greenDistilled from tops of Alpine mountains cold,Those he desired in vain, new torments been,Augmented thus with wish of comforts old,Those waters cool he drank in vain conceit,Which more increased his thirst, increased his heat.

The sturdy bodies of the warriors strong,Whom neither marching far, nor tedious way,Nor weighty arms which on their shoulders hung,Could weary make, nor death itself dismay;Now weak and feeble cast their limbs along,Unwieldly burdens, on the burned clay,And in each vein a smouldering fire there dwelt,Which dried their flesh and solid bones did melt.

Languished the steed late fierce, and proffered grass,His fodder erst, despised and from him cast,Each step he stumbled, and which lofty wasAnd high advanced before now fell his crest,His conquests gotten all forgotten pass,Nor with desire of glory swelled his breast,The spoils won from his foe, his late rewards,He now neglects, despiseth, naught regards.

Languished the faithful dog, and wonted careOf his dear lord and cabin both forgot,Panting he laid, and gathered fresher airTo cool the burning in his entrails hot:But breathing, which wise nature did prepareTo suage the stomach’s heat, now booted not,For little ease, alas, small help, they winThat breathe forth air and scalding fire suck in.

Thus languished the earth, in this estateLay woful thousands of the Christians stout,The faithful people grew nigh desperateOf hoped conquest, shameful death they doubt,Of their distress they talk and oft debate,These sad complaints were heard the camp throughout:“What hope hath Godfrey? shall we still here lieTill all his soldiers, all our armies die?

“Alas, with what device, what strength, thinks heTo scale these walls, or this strong fort to get?Whence hath he engines new? doth he not see,How wrathful Heaven gainst us his sword doth whet?These tokens shown true signs and witness beOur angry God our proud attempts doth let,And scorching sun so hot his beams outspreads,That not more cooling Inde nor Aethiop needs.

“Or thinks he it an eath or little thingThat us despised, neglected, and disdained,Like abjects vile, to death he thus should bring,That so his empire may be still maintained?Is it so great a bliss to be a king,When he that wears the crown with blood is stainedAnd buys his sceptre with his people’s lives?See whither glory vain, fond mankind drives.

“See, see the man, called holy, just, and good,That courteous, meek, and humble would be thought,Yet never cared in what distress we stoodIf his vain honor were diminished naught,When dried up from us his spring and floodHis water must from Jordan streams be brought,And how he sits at feasts and banquets sweetAnd mingleth waters fresh with wines of Crete.”

The French thus murmured, but the Greekish knightTatine, that of this war was weary grown:“Why die we here,” quoth he, “slain without fight,Killed, not subdued, murdered, not overthrown?Upon the Frenchmen let the penance lightOf Godfrey’s folly, let me save mine own,”And as he said, without farewell, the knightAnd all his comet stole away by night.

His bad example many a troop preparesTo imitate, when his escape they know,Clotharius his band, and Ademare’s,And all whose guides in dust were buried low,Discharged of duty’s chains and bondage snares,Free from their oath, to none they service owe,But now concluded all on secret flight,And shrunk away by thousands every night.

Godfredo this both heard, and saw, and knew,Yet nould with death them chastise though he mought,But with that faith wherewith he could renewThe steadfast hills and seas dry up to naughtHe prayed the Lord upon his flock to rue,To ope the springs of grace and ease this drought,Out of his looks shone zeal, devotion, faith,His hands and eyes to heaven he heaves, and saith:

“Father and Lord, if in the deserts wasteThou hadst compassion on thy children dear,The craggy rock when Moses cleft and brast,And drew forth flowing streams of waters clear,Like mercy, Lord, like grace on us down cast;And though our merits less than theirs appear,Thy grace supply that want, for though they beThy first-born son, thy children yet are we.”

These prayers just, from humble hearts forth sent,Were nothing slow to climb the starry sky,But swift as winged bird themselves presentBefore the Father of the heavens high:The Lord accepted them, and gently bentUpon the faithful host His gracious eye,And in what pain and what distress it laid,He saw, and grieved to see, and thus He said:

“Mine armies dear till now have suffered woe,Distress and danger, hell’s infernal powerTheir enemy hath been, the world their foe,But happy be their actions from this hour:What they begin to blessed end shall go,I will refresh them with a gentle shower;Rinaldo shall return, the Egyptian crewThey shall encounter, conquer, and subdue.”

At these high words great heaven began to shake,The fixed stars, the planets wandering still,Trembled the air, the earth and ocean quake,Spring, fountain, river, forest, dale and hill;From north to east, a lightning flash outbrake,And coming drops presaged with thunders shrill:With joyful shouts the soldiers on the plain,These tokens bless of long-desired rain.

A sudden cloud, as when Helias prayed,Not from dry earth exhaled by Phoebus’ beams,Arose, moist heaven his windows open laid,Whence clouds by heaps out rush, and watery streams,The world o’erspread was with a gloomy shade,That like a dark mirksome even it seems;The crashing rain from molten skies down fell,And o’er their banks the brooks and fountains swell.

In summer season, when the cloudy skyUpon the parched ground doth rain down send,As duck and mallard in the furrows dryWith merry noise the promised showers attend,And spreading broad their wings displayed lieTo keep the drops that on their plumes descend,And where the streams swell to a gathered lake,Therein they dive, and sweet refreshing take:

So they the streaming showers with shouts and criesSalute, which heaven shed on the thirsty lands,The falling liquor from the dropping skiesHe catcheth in his lap, he barehead stands,And his bright helm to drink therein unties,In the fresh streams he dives his sweaty hands,Their faces some, and some their temples wet,And some to keep the drops large vessels set.

Nor man alone to ease his burning sore,Herein doth dive and wash, and hereof drinks,But earth itself weak, feeble, faint before,Whose solid limbs were cleft with rifts and chinks,Received the falling showers and gathered storeOf liquor sweet, that through her veins down sinks,And moisture new infused largely wasIn trees, in plants, in herbs, in flowers, in grass.

Earth, like the patient was, whose lively bloodHath overcome at last some sickness strong,Whose feeble limbs had been the bait and foodWhereon this strange disease depastured long,But now restored, in health and welfare stood,As sound as erst, as fresh, as fair, as young;So that forgetting all his grief and pain,His pleasant robes and crowns he takes again.

Ceased the rain, the sun began to shine,With fruitful, sweet, benign, and gentle ray,Full of strong power and vigor masculine,As be his beams in April or in May.O happy zeal! who trusts in help divineThe world’s afflictions thus can drive away,Can storms appease, and times and seasons change,And conquer fortune, fate, and destiny strange.