To an Imperilled Traveller

Unflinching dante of a later day, Thou who hast wandered through the realms of pain And seen with aching breast and whirling brain Woes which thou wert unable to allay, What frightful visions hast thou brought away: Of torments, passions, agonies, struggles vain To break the prison walls, to rend the chain,— Of hopeless hearts too desperate to pray! Men are the devils of that pitiless hell! Men guard the labyrinth of that ninefold curse! Marvel of marvels! Thou hast lived to tell, In prose more sorrowful than Dante’s verse, Of pangs more grievous, sufferings more fell, Than Dante or his master dared rehearse!