Note 117 — DANTE.[1] (continued 2)

Had I a rhyme so rugged, rough, and hoarse As would become the sorrowful abyss, O'er which the rocky circles wind their course, Then with a more appropriate form I might Endow my vast conceptions; wanting this, Not without fear I bring myself to write. For no light enterprise it is, I deem, To represent the lowest depth of all; Nor should a childish tongue attempt the theme.—Wright.