AND didst thou know indeed, when at the font br Together with thy name thou gav'st me his, br That also on thy son must Beatrice br Decline her eyes according to her wont, br Accepting me to be of those that haunt br The vale of magical dark mysteries br Where to the hills her poet's foot-track lies, br And wisdom's living fountain to his chaunt br Trembles in music? This is that steep land br Where he that holds his journey stands at gaze br Tow'rd sunset, when the clouds like a new height br Seem piled to climb. These things I understand: br For here, where day still soothes my lifted face, br On thy bowed head, my father, fell the night.