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Each morn I hear his voice bid them That watch me, to be faithful spies Lest I go forth and see the skies; Each night to each he saith the same;— And in my soul and in mine eyes There is a burning heat like flame.

Thus grieves she now; but she shall wear This love of mine whereof I spoke About her body for a cloak, And for a garland in her hair, Even yet; because I mean to prove, Not to speak only, this my love.

—ROSSETTI.

Of the few really Sicilian poets whose verses remain, the most remarkable is Cielo dal Carno, more commonly known from the misreading of an ill-written text as Ciullo d’Alcarno. The mention of Saladin has till recently caused hisDialogue between Lover and Lady to be ascribed to the close of the twelfth century, but more unequivocal indications prove that it cannot have been written before 1231. It is a piece of rare merit in its way, exempt from the insipid gallantry of the typical troubadour or minnesinger, and full of humour at once robust and sly at the expense of slippery suitors and complacent damsels. Nothing can be more delightfully naïve, for instance, than the knight’s unsolicited confession that he has stolen his Bible: