In dusky colouring traced I could discern Over a gate these words; whereat I said The gloom, with cheerful face, that silenced fear, Each utterance of pain and wrath that telleth, A tumult made that ever eddying welleth Up thro' that realm in changeless gloom enshrouded, Like sand which the Scirocco's blast impelleth. And 'Say,' I thus began with error clouded, 10 15 20 25 30 Say, Master, what tumultuous sounds amaze Mine ear, and who are these in sorrow shrouded?' Whereto he made response; 'Here thou survey'st Then I; O Master, what great cause of grief Afflicts them, that they wail so vehemently?' And he thus ; ' Briefest answer will suffice. These have no hope the day of death to see, And their obscure existence is so base, They long for every other destiny. Earth in its records hath for them no place; 35 40 45 Mercy and Justice shun their state forlorn: 50 Speak we no more of them, but look, and pass.' And, as I looked, I saw an ensign borne Aloft, and whirling round and round—it ran So swiftly that all rest it seem'd to scorn. And after it there came so long a train 55 Of spirits that I could never have believed Hateful to God and to His enemies. These miserable beings, that never were Alive, went naked, and were sorely stung By hornets and by wasps that gather'd there. Around their faces quivering gore-drops hung, 65 That mingled with their tears, and trickling o'er Their bodies fell disgustful worms among. Then, bending forward further to explore, 70 I saw much folk by a broad river's stream; Whereat I said; 'Master, now let thy lore Unfold who these are, and what makes them seem So eager to embark those waves upon, As I discern by yonder fitful gleam.' But he replied; 'This will appear anon, When we our travell'd footsteps shall have placed Upon the doleful shore of Acheron.' 1 Pope Celestine V. 75 And then, with eyes in reverent awe depress'd, Get thee away from these—for they are dead.' 'By other waters thou shalt reach the plain : A lighter bark must bear the living head.' Whereto my Guide; 'Fret not thyself in vain, Charon, for so 'tis will'd where will and might Who round his eyes had rings of fiery light. But those poor weary naked souls forsake Their colour, gnashing all in furious wrath, Blaspheming the Holy One of heaven—the earth And then, loud wailing all, with echoing pace To that accursed shore in heaps they roll, 105 That waits each mortal man who spurn'd Heaven's grace. Demonian Charon's eyes of blazing coal Strikes with uplifted oar each lagging soul. As leaves, that in the drear autumnal weather That desolate shore abandon one by one, 'Those who have perish'd in the wrath of God Hither assemble all from every land. And they are eager to pass o'er the flood, 115 120 Because Heaven's justice goadeth them, till fear 125 |