Of air, unknown in Death’s gray Underworld
And only whispered of by restless Shades
Rememb’ring shadowy things across their dusk?—
Or how I often asked: “Canst thou, dark heart,
Remember home? So far and long forlorn
Canst thou, my heart, remember Sicily?”
Then didst thou, weeping, call Persephone
The Many-Songed, and where thy lonely voice
Once fell all greenness faded and the song
Of birds all died, and down from brazen heights