Dante's Inferno. Dante Alighieri

      The good instructor spake; "Now seest thou, son!

      The souls of those, whom anger overcame.

      This too for certain know, that underneath

      The water dwells a multitude, whose sighs

      Into these bubbles make the surface heave,

      As thine eye tells thee wheresoe'er it turn.

      Fix'd in the slime they say: 'Sad once were we

      In the sweet air made gladsome by the sun,

      Carrying a foul and lazy mist within:

      Now in these murky settlings are we sad.'

      Such dolorous strain they gurgle in their throats.

      But word distinct can utter none." Our route

      Thus compass'd we, a segment widely stretch'd

      Between the dry embankment, and the core

      Of the loath'd pool, turning meanwhile our eyes

      Downward on those who gulp'd its muddy lees;

      Nor stopp'd, till to a tower's low base we came.