I read the marble-lettered name,
  And half in bitterness I said:
“As Dante from Ravenna came,
  Our poet came from exile—dead.”
And yet, had it been asked of him
  Where he would rather lay his head,
This spot he would have chosen. Dim
    The city’s hum drifts o’er his grave,
    And green above the hollies wave
Their...