06.05.2012, 16:44
DANTE AND VIRGIL
WHEN lost Francesca sobbed her broken tale
Of Love, and Sin, and boundless Agony;
While that wan spirit by her side did wail
And bite his lips for utter misery -
The Grief which could not speak, nor hear, nor see;
So tender grew the superhuman face
Of one who listened, that a mighty trace
Of superhuman woe gave way, and pale,
The sudden light upstruggled to its place;
While all his limbs began to faint and fail
With such excess of Pity. But, behind,
The Roman Virgil stood - the calm, the wise -
With not a shadow in his regal eyes,
A stately type of all his stately kind!
WHEN lost Francesca sobbed her broken tale
Of Love, and Sin, and boundless Agony;
While that wan spirit by her side did wail
And bite his lips for utter misery -
The Grief which could not speak, nor hear, nor see;
So tender grew the superhuman face
Of one who listened, that a mighty trace
Of superhuman woe gave way, and pale,
The sudden light upstruggled to its place;
While all his limbs began to faint and fail
With such excess of Pity. But, behind,
The Roman Virgil stood - the calm, the wise -
With not a shadow in his regal eyes,
A stately type of all his stately kind!