MY thoughts go forth to the abiding place Of her I seek below and cannot find; In the third circle I beheld her face In beauty more compassionate to my mind. She clasped my hand and said: "Within this sphere Thou too shalt be, so my desire speak well; Lo, I am she who wrought thee torment here And died before the shades of evening fell. My bliss no mortal mind can understand. My spirit waits on thee, to dust is given The lovely veil once precious in thy eyes." Alas, why did she pause and loose my hand? So chastely and so mercifully shriven, I did believe I was in Paradise. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: HILDRUP TUBBS by EDGAR LEE MASTERS A MAN'S REQUIREMENTS by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING THE FORERUNNERS by GEORGE HERBERT CROSSING THE PLAINS by CINCINNATUS HEINE MILLER |