« PreviousContinue »
I ENTER, and I see thee in the gloom
Of the long aisles, O poet saturnine !
The air is filled with some unknown perfume;
For thee to pass ; the votive tapers shine ;
The hovering echoes fly from tomb to tomb.
Rehearsals of forgotten tragedies,
And lamentations from the crypts below ;
With the pathetic words, “ Although your sins