I enter, and I see thee in the gloom Of the long aisles, O poet saturnine! And strive to make my steps keep pace with thine. The air is filled with some unknown perfume; The congregation of the dead make room For thee to pass; the votive tapers shine; Like rooks that haunt Ravenna's groves of pine The hovering echoes fly from tomb to tomb. From the confessionals I hear arise Rehearsals of forgotten tragedies, And lamentations from the crypts below; And then a voice celestial that begins With the pathetic words, "Although your sins As scarlet be," and ends with "as the snow." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE POET by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR SEVEN TIMES SEVEN [- LONGING FOR HOME] by JEAN INGELOW DAWN AT LEXINGTON by KATHARINE LEE BATES TO MRS. ANN FLAXMAN by WILLIAM BLAKE EGYPTIAN THEOSOPHY by MATHILDE BLIND WHO WON THE DAY by ANNA HEMPSTEAD BRANCH AIRS SUNG AT BROUGHAM CASTLE: DIALOGUE SUNG THE FIRST NIGHT by THOMAS CAMPION |