Voi Ch’intrate La Citta’ Dolente

A murder, a mystery,
In yonder Boston of bean,
Has been utterly committed,
One of most obscene.

The killer, clever or dumb,
Left the body by the lake.
Poor, poor Mrs. Healey,
Pray for her, for goodness’ sake.

A judge, he was,
Of Boston, a Brahmin,
Of chief justice,
His death was unholy, Amen.

Amen to the reverend that perished in the vault,
With Dante’s Inferno,
Played to his demise,
Etterne etterno, etterne etterno.

Longfellow, Holmes,
Lowell and Fields.
All from The Dante Club,
Prepare to yield.

Murder by Murder,
“Dai calcogni a le punte”
Holmes recited, then afterwards screamed,
“Dante! It’s Dante!”

Murder by Murder,
“Nel mezzo del cammin di Nostra vita”
Lowell translates “Midway through the journey of our life”
Watching each other, in the citta’ dolente.

Murder by Murder,
“Midway through the journey of our life,
I found myself in a dark wood, for the correct path had been lost”
Murder by Murder, so falls the knife, so ends the life.