When lost Francesca sobbed her broken tale Of love and sin and boundless agony, While that wan spirit by her side did wail And bite his lips for utter misery -- The grief which could not speak, nor hear, nor see -- So tender grew the superhuman face Of one who listened, that a mighty trace Of superhuman woe gave way, and pale The sudden light up-struggled to its place; While all his limbs began to faint and fail With such excess of pity. But, behind, The Roman Virgil stood -- the calm, the wise -- With not a shadow in his regal eyes, A stately type of all his stately kind. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TWO POEMS FROM THE WAR: 2 by ARCHIBALD MACLEISH THE GAME OF CHESS by EZRA POUND UPLANDS IN MAY by CARL SANDBURG |