To A New Beatrice Poem by Ina D. Coolbrith

(B. G.: Born January 28,1895)

Robed as with petals of the red rose-queen,
Unfolding in the dawn’s awakening rays,
She stood, a child, before the boy’s rapt gaze;
And then, a milk-white lily maid, between
Her noble ladies, smiled, with gracious mien;
And then an Angel in the heavenly ways,
She leaned and drew his soul from death’s dark maze,
The lode-star of the mighty Florentine.
And thou, our Beatrice! With thy perfect name,
O daughter of the New World’s Italy,
Be potent still the spell which in it lies:
A light to shine with clear, unwavering flame,
And draw the world-thy Dante-after thee,
Along the paths which lead to Paradise.