Page:Poems, Alan Seeger, 1916.djvu/167



, rejoice! For thou o'er land and sea

So spread'st thy pinions that the fame of thee

Hath reached no less into the depths of Hell.

So noble were the five I found to dwell

Therein—thy sons—whence shame accrues to me

And no great praise is thine; but if it be

That truth unveil in dreamings before dawn,

Then is the vengeful hour not far withdrawn

When Prato shall exult within her walls

To see thy suffering. Whate'er befalls,

Let it come soon, since come it must, for later,

Each year would see my grief for thee the greater.

We left; and once more up the craggy side

By the blind steps of our descent, my guide,

Remounting, drew me on. So we pursued

The rugged path through that steep solitude,

Where rocks and splintered fragments strewed the land

So thick, that foot availed not without hand.

Grief filled me then, and still great sorrow stirs

My heart as oft as memory recurs

To what I saw; that more and more I rein

My natural powers, and curb them lest they strain

Where Virtue guide not,—that if some good star,

Or better thing, have made them what they are,

That good I may not grudge, nor turn to ill.

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