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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=409418" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Divina Commedia</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I.Written March 29, 1864.1.<br> Oft have I seen at some cathedral door <br>.<br> A laborer, pausing in the dust and heat, <br>.<br> Lay down his burden, and with reverent feet <br>.<br> Enter, and cross himself, and on the floor <br>.<br> Kneel to repeat his paternoster o'er; <br>.<br> Far off the noises of the world retreat; <br>.<br> The loud vociferations of the street <br>.<br> Become an undistinguishable roar. <br>.<br> So, as I enter here from day to day, <br>.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> And leave my burden at this minster gate, <br>.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Kneeling in prayer, and not ashamed to pray, <br>.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> The tumult of the time disconsolate <br>.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> To inarticulate murmurs dies away, <br>.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> While the eternal ages watch and wait.II.2.<br> How strange the sculptures that adorn these towers! <br>.<br> This crowd of statues, in whose folded sleeves <br>.<br> Birds build their nests; while canopied with leaves <br>.<br> Parvis and portal bloom like trellised bowers, <br>.<br> And the vast minster seems a cross of flowers! <br>.<br> But fiends and dragons on the gargoyled eaves <br>.<br> Watch the dead Christ between the living thieves, <br>.<br> And, underneath, the traitor Judas lowers! <br>.<br> Ah! from what agonies of heart and brain, <br>.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> What exultations trampling on despair, <br>.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> What tenderness, what tears, what hate of wrong, <br>.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> What passionate outcry of a soul in pain, <br>.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Uprose this poem of the earth and air, <br>.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> This medi&aelig;val miracle of song!<br>III.Written December 22, 1865.3.<br> I enter, and I see thee in the gloom <br>.<br> Of the long aisles, O poet saturnine! <br>.<br> And strive to make my steps keep pace with thine. <br>.<br> The air is filled with some unknown perfume; <br>.<br> The congregation of the dead make room <br>.<br> For thee to pass; the votive tapers shine; <br>.<br> Like rooks that haunt Ravenna's groves of pine <br>.<br> The hovering echoes fly from tomb to tomb. <br>.<br> From the confessionals I hear arise <br>.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Rehearsals of forgotten tragedies, <br>.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> And lamentations from the crypts below; <br>.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> And then a voice celestial that begins <br>.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> With the pathetic words, &quot;Although your sins <br>.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> As scarlet be,&quot; and ends with &quot;as the snow.&quot; <br>IV.Written May 5, 1867.4.<br> With snow-white veil and garments as of flame, <br>.<br> She stands before thee, who so long ago <br>.<br> Filled thy young heart with passion and the woe <br>.<br> From which thy song and all its splendors came; <br>.<br> And while with stern rebuke she speaks thy name, <br>.<br> The ice about thy heart melts as the snow <br>.<br> On mountain heights, and in swift overflow <br>.<br> Comes gushing from thy lips in sobs of shame. <br>.<br> Thou makest full confession; and a gleam, <br>.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> As of the dawn on some dark forest cast, <br>.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Seems on thy lifted forehead to increase; <br>.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Lethe and Euno&euml; -- the remembered dream <br>.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> And the forgotten sorrow -- bring at last <br>.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> That perfect pardon which is perfect peace.<br>V.Written January 16, 1866.5.<br> I lift mine eyes, and all the windows blaze <br>.<br> With forms of Saints and holy men who died, <br>.<br> Here martyred and hereafter glorified; <br>.<br> And the great Rose upon its leaves displays <br>.<br> Christ's Triumph, and the angelic roundelays, <br>.<br> With splendor upon splendor multiplied; <br>.<br> And Beatrice again at Dante's side <br>.<br> No more rebukes, but smiles her words of praise. <br>.<br> And then the organ sounds, and unseen choirs <br>.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Sing the old Latin hymns of peace and love <br>.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> And benedictions of the Holy Ghost; <br>.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> And the melodious bells among the spires <br>.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> O'er all the house-tops and through heaven above <br>.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Proclaim the elevation of the Host! <br>VI.Written March 7, 1866.6.<br> O star of morning and of liberty! <br>.<br> O bringer of the light, whose splendor shines <br>.<br> Above the darkness of the Apennines, <br>.<br> Forerunner of the day that is to be! <br>.<br> The voices of the city and the sea, <br>.<br> The voices of the mountains and the pines, <br>.<br> Repeat thy song, till the familiar lines <br>.<br> Are footpaths for the thought of Italy! <br>.<br> Thy fame is blown abroad from all the heights, <br>.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Through all the nations, and a sound is heard, <br>.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> As of a mighty wind, and men devout, <br>.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Strangers of Rome, and the new proselytes, <br>.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> In their own language hear thy wondrous word, <br>.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> And many are amazed and many doubt.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Henry+Wadsworth+Longfellow">Henry Wadsworth Longfellow</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=409418" data-title="Divina Commedia de Henry Wadsworth Longfellow" data-description="I.Written March 29, 1864.1.
 Oft have I seen at some cathedral door 
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 A laborer, pausing in the dust and heat, 
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 Lay down his burden, and with reverent feet 
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 Enter, and cross himself, and on the floor 
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 Kneel to repeat his paternoster o'e..."></div>
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