Vincenzo da Filicaja (1642–1707)

Translated by Leigh Hunt

JUST as a mother, with sweet, pious face,

Yearns towards her little children from her seat,

Gives one a kiss, another an embrace,

Takes this upon her knees, that on her feet;

And while from actions, looks, complaints, pretences,

She learns their feelings and their various will,

To this a look, to that a word, dispenses,

And, whether stern or smiling, loves them still;—

So Providence for us, high, infinite,

Makes our necessities its watchful task,

Hearkens to all our prayers, helps all our wants,

And even if it denies what seems our right,

Either denies because ’twould have us ask,

Or seems but to deny, or in denying grants.