Whom I knew late, and thou desir’st to see,
Not for I did, but for I left undone.
A place below there is where no groans rise
From torment, sad alone with want of light,
Where the lament sounds not like moan, but sighs.
The little innocents whom Death’s fell bite
Snatched, ere their sin was purified, are there:
And there I dwell with guiltless ones that still
The three most holy virtues did not wear,
Though all the rest they knew, and did fulfil.
But if thou knowest, and may’st us apprise,
Tell us how we most speedily may find
Where Purgatory’s actual entrance lies.”
SORDELLO.
“We have,” he answered, “no set place assigned;
Around and upward I am free to stray;
My guidance far as I may go I lend: