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!”
(Henry Wadsworth Longfellow)
More Poetry from Henry Wadsworth Longfellow:
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Poems based on Topics: Sadness, War & Peace- The Golden Legend: VI. The School Of Salerno (Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Poems)
- The Golden Legend: V. A Covered Bridge At Lucerne (Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Poems)
- The Golden Legend: Prologue & 1. (Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Poems)
- By The Seaside : The Building Of The Ship (Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Poems)
- Coplas De Manrique (From The Spanish) (Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Poems)
- The Blind Girl Of Castel-Cuille. (From The Gascon of Jasmin) (Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Poems)
Readers Who Like This Poem Also Like:
Based on Topics: Sadness Poems, War & Peace PoemsBased on Keywords: streaks, trump, frà, cloister, tuscan, wanderest, decrease, sympathies, relume, diocese, convent-walls