Page:Divine Comedy (Longfellow 1867) v1.djvu/35

Rh And after he had laid his hand on mine

With joyful mien, whence I was comforted,

He led me in among the secret things.

There sighs, complaints, and ululations loud

Resounded through the air without a star,

Whence I, at the beginning, wept thereat.

Languages diverse, horrible dialects,

Accents of anger, words of agony,

And voices high and hoarse, with sound of hands,

Made up a tumult that goes whirling on

Forever in that air forever black,

Even as the sand doth, when the whirlwind breathes.

And I, who had my head with horror bound,

Said: "Master, what is this which now I hear?

What folk is this, which seems by pain so vanquished?"

And he to me: "This miserable mode

Maintain the melancholy souls of those

Who lived withouten infamy or praise.

Commingled are they with that caitiff choir

Of Angels, who have not rebellious been,

Nor faithful were to God, but were for self.

The heavens expelled them, not to be less fair;

Nor them the nethermore abyss receives,

For glory none the damned would have from them."