Francesca da Rimini to Paulo Malatesta

Upon the bough of life I sat and sang,

And thou didst seek me on the morning's breath.

If Love should lead us to a common death,

The kiss that made us one was worth the pang.

Upon a single thread our two lives hang;

Peril, on earth, surrounds us like a wreath;

God frowns above, fiends mutter underneath;

We go where word of mercy never rang.

Rather than part, O love, I would accept

To share with thee the pauseless gust of Hell,

Like storm-borne birds for ever onward swept,

Where subterranean hurricanes compel

The wind-imprisoned spirits that are kept

Upon the wing in Nature's cavernous shell.