TUSCAN, that wanderest through the realms of gloom, With thoughtful pace, and sad, majestic eyes, Stern thoughts and awful from thy soul arise, Like Farinata from his fiery tomb. Thy sacred song is like the trump of doom; Yet in thy heart what human sympathies, What soft compassion glows, as in the skies The tender stars their clouded lamps relume! Methinks I see thee stand with pallid cheeks By Fra Hilario in his diocese, As up the convent-walls, in golden streaks, The ascending sunbeams mark the day's decrease; And, as he asks what there the stranger seeks, Thy voice along the cloister whispers "Peace!" | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE WRECK OF THE CIRCUS TRAIN by HAYDEN CARRUTH ANSWER TO PRAYER by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON GUNS AS KEYS: AND THE GREAT GATE SWINGS by AMY LOWELL SONNET by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON TWO SONNETS: 2 by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON |