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On Dante's track by some funereal spell Drawn down through desperate ways that lead not back We seem to move, bound forth past flood and fell On Dante's track.

The grey path ends: the gaunt rocks gape: the black Deep hollow tortuous night, a soundless shell, Glares darkness: are the fires of old grown slack?

Nay, then, what flames are these that leap and swell As 'twere to show, where earth's foundations crack, The secrets of the sepulchres of hell On Dante's track?