The smile of her I love—when that is gone,
O'er all the world Night spreads her shadowy wing.
XXVIII—FRANCESCA AND PAOLO
Within the second dolorous circle where
The lost are whirled, lamenting—thou and I
Stood, Love, to-day with Dante. Silently
We looked upon the black and trembling air;
When lo! from out that darkness of despair
Two shadows, light upon the wind, drew nigh,
Whose very motion seemed to breathe a sigh—
And there Francesca, and her lover there.
These when we saw, the wounds whereat they bled,
Their love which was not with their bodies slain—
These when we saw, great were the tears we shed;
As, Love, for thee and me love's tears shall rain—
The mortal agony; the nameless dread;
The longing, and the passion, and the pain.
XXIX—THE UNKNOWN WAY
Two travelers met upon a plain
Where two straight, narrow pathways crossed;
They met and, with a still surprise,
They looked into each other's eyes
And knew that never, O, never again!
Could one from the other soul be lost.
But lo! these narrow pathways lead
Now each from each apart, and lo!
In neither pathway can they go
Together, in their new, strange need.
