ue, and to her virtue uncommon musical and
literary talents. Among her poems, there is a sonnet addressed to a
lady, once beloved by her husband, beginning

"Donna! che tanto al mio sol piacesti,"

which is one of the most graceful, most feeling, most delicate
compositions I ever read. Zappi celebrates his beautiful wife under
the name of Clori, and his first mistress under that of Filli: to the
latter he has addressed a sonnet, which turns on the same thought as
Cowley's well known song, "Love in thine eyes." As they both lived
about the same time, it would be difficult to tell which of the two
borrowed from the other; probably they were both borrowers from some
elder poet.

The characteristics of Zappi's style, are tenderness and elegance; he
occasionally rises to sublimity; as in the sonnet on the Statue of
Moses, and that on Good Friday. He never emulates the flights of Guido
or Filicaja, but he is more uniformly graceful and flowing than
either; his happy thoughts are not spun out too far,--and his _points_
are seldom mere _concetti_.

SONETTO.

DI GIAMBATTISTA ZAPPI.

Amor s'asside alia mia Filli accanto,
Amor la segue ovunque i passi gira:
In lei parla, in lei tace, in lei sospira,
Anzi in lei vive, ond'ella ed ei puo tanto.

Amore i vezzi, amor le insegna il canto;
E se mai duolsi, o se pur mai s'adira,
Da lei non parte amor, anzi se mira
Amor ne le belle ire, amor nel pianto.

Se avvien che danzi in regolato errore,
Darle il moto al bel piede, amor riveggio,
Come l'auretto quando muove un fiore.

Le veggio in fronte amor come in suo seggio,
Sul crin, negli occhi, su le labbra amore,
Sol d'intorno al suo cuore, amor non veggio.[I]

After being confined to the house for three days, partly by
indisposition, and partly by a vile sirocco, which brought, as usual,
vapours, clouds, and blue devils in its train--this most lovely day
tempted me out; and I walked with V. over the Monte Cavallo to the
Forum of Trajan. After admiring the view from the summit of the
pillar, we went on towards the Capitol, which presented a singular
scene: the square and street in front, as well as the immense flight
of steps, one hundred and fifty in number, which lead to the church of
the Ara Celi, were crowded with men, women, and children, all in their
holiday dresses. It was with difficulty we made our way through them,
though they very civi