Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, ed. Poems of Places: An Anthology in 31 Volumes. Italy: Vols. XIXIII. 187679. | | | | Rome, Palaces and Villas of | | The Sistine Chapel | | Aubrey Thomas de Vere (18141902) |
| | I. THE MISERERE THOSE sounds expiring on mine ear, mine eye | |
| Was by a corresponding impress spelled: | |
| A vision of the angels that rebelled | |
| Still hung before me through the yielding sky, | |
| Sinking on plumes outstretched imploringly. | 5 |
| Their tempters hopes and theirs forever quelled, | |
| They sank, with hands upon their eyes close-held, | |
| And longed, methought, for death, yet could not die. | |
| Down, ever down, a mournful pageant streaming | |
| With the slow, ceaseless motion of a river, | 10 |
| Inwoven choirs to ruin blindly tending, | |
| They sank. I wept as one who weeps while dreaming | |
| To see them, host on host, by force descending | |
| Down the dim gulfs, forever and forever. | |
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II. FROM sadness on to sadness, woe to woe, | 15 |
| Searching all depths of grief ineffable, | |
| Those sighs of the forsaken sink and swell, | |
| And to a piercing shrillness, gathering, grow. | |
| Now one by one, commingling now they flow; | |
| Now in the dark they die, a piteous knell, | 20 |
| Lorn as the wail of exiled Israel, | |
| Or Hagar weeping oer her outcast. No, | |
| Never hath loss external forced such sighs! | |
| O ye with secret sins that inly bleed, | |
| And drift from God, search out, if ye are wise, | 25 |
| Your unrepented infelicities: | |
| And pray, whateer the punishment decreed, | |
| It prove not exile from your Makers eyes. | | | | |
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