We who went where Dante went And Persephone, You can know us by the bent Brow, and shadowy, By the eyes that still would dream (Through your loudest word) Of the kindness in some stream Or some singing-bird: Soft our words to all who live, Courteously we go (There's so little to forgive, Knowing what we know!) Yet have patience if we stare At your whimpering crowd . . . Where the Nine Great Circles were No man cried aloud. |