TUSCAN, that wanderest through the realms of gloom, With thoughtful pace, and sad, majestic eyes, Stern thoughts and awful from thy soul arise, Like Farinata from his fiery tomb. Thy sacred song is like the trump of doom; Yet in thy heart what human sympathies, What soft compassion glows, as in the skies The tender stars their clouded lamps relume! Methinks I see thee stand with pallid cheeks By Fra Hilario in his diocese, As up the convent-walls, in golden streaks, The ascending sunbeams mark the day's decrease; And, as he asks what there the stranger seeks, Thy voice along the cloister whispers "Peace!" | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ESTRANGEMENT by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON ILLUSIONS by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON TO JOHN BROWN by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON WITH CHAOS IN EACH KISS by TIMOTHY LIU THE EXPANDED COMPOSITION by CLARENCE MAJOR TO DISRAELI ON CONSERVATISM by MARIANNE MOORE |