THE LAY OF THE CONDEMNED SPIRIT IN DANTE.
—— nel dolce mondo.—Inferno.
When o’er the threshold of the drear abyss,
Whose portals stern shall never ope for me,
Thy feet regain that upper world of bliss,
These shadowy orbs may never hope to see;
Wilt thou to kindred hearts, that linger yet
By Arno’s stream, my hapless name recall?
For mortals soon the dearest face forget,
When blanched by death it lies beneath the pall.
An exile in the realms of endless pain,
In dreams I see my pleasant earthly home;
Oh, bid them there resyllable my name,
Forgetful of the sins that make me moan!
Sweet world of bliss, forever lost to me,
For your blue heavens and pleasant sun I pine!
For grass, and flower, and stream, and rustling tree,
I mourn forever in the nether clime!