Canto XXII   
    
    
ARGUMENT.—He beholds many other spirits of the devout and contemplative; and among these is addressed by St. Benedict, who, after disclosing his own name and the names of certain of his companions in bliss, replies to the request made by our Poet that he might look on the form of the saint, without that covering of splendor, which then invested it; and then proceeds, lastly, to inveigh against the corruption of the monks. Next Dante mounts with his heavenly conductress to the eighth heaven, or that of the fixed stars, which he enters at the constellation of the Twins; and thence looking back, reviews all the space he has passed between his present station and the earth.   
    
    
ASTOUNDED, to the guardian of my steps      
I turn’d me, like the child, who always runs      
Thither for succour, where he trusteth most:      
And she was like the mother, who her son      
Beholding pale and breathless, with her voice           5   
Soothes him, and he is cheer’d; for thus she spake,      
Soothing me: “Know’st not thou, thou art in Heaven?      
And know’st not thou, whatever is in Heaven,      
Is holy; and that nothing there is done,      
But is done zealously and well? Deem now,           10   
What change in thee the song, and what my smile      
Had wrought, since thus the shout had power to move thee;      
In which, couldst thou have understood their prayers,      
The vengeance 1 were already known to thee,      
Which thou must witness ere thy mortal hour.           15   
The sword of Heaven is not in haste to smite,      
Nor yet doth linger; save unto his seeming,      
Who, in desire or fear, doth look for it.      
But elsewhere now I bid thee turn thy view;      
So shalt thou many a famous spirit behold.”           20   
  Mine eyes directing, as she will’d, I saw      
A hundred little spheres, that fairer grew      
By interchange of splendour. I remain’d,      
As one, who fearful of o’er-much presuming,      
Abates in him the keenness of desire,           25   
Nor dares to question; when, amid those pearls,      
One largest and most lustrous onward drew,      
That it might yield contentment to my wish;      
And, from within it, these the sounds I heard.      
  “If thou, like me, beheld’st the charity           30   
That burns amongst us; what thy mind conceives      
Were utter’d. But that, ere the lofty bound      
Thou reach, expectance may not weary thee;      
I will make answer even to the thought,      
Which thou hast such respect of. In old days,           35   
That mountain, at whose side Cassino 2 rests,      
Was, on its height, frequented by a race      
Deceived and ill-disposed: and I it was, 3      
Who thither carried first the name of Him,      
Who brought the soul-subliming truth to man.           40   
And such a speeding grace shone over me,      
That from their impious worship I reclaim’d      
The dwellers round about, who with the world      
Were in delusion lost. These other flames,      
The spirits of men contemplative, were all           45   
Enliven’d by that warmth, whose kindly force      
Gives birth to flowers and fruits of holiness.      
Here is Macarius; 4 Romoaldo 5 here;      
And here my brethren, who their steps refrain’d      
Within the cloisters, and held firm their heart.”           50   
  I answering thus: “Thy gentle words and kind,      
And this the cheerful semblance I behold,      
Not unobservant, beaming in ye all,      
Have raised assurance in me; wakening it      
Full-blossom’d in my bosom, as a rose           55   
Before the sun, when the consummate flower      
Has spread to utmost amplitude. Of thee      
Therefore intreat I, father, to declare      
If I may gain such favour, as to gaze      
Upon thine image by no covering veil’d.”           60   
  “Brother!” he thus rejoin’d, “in the last sphere 6      
Expect completion of thy lofty aim:      
For there on each desire completion waits,      
And there on mine; where every aim is found      
Perfect, entire, and for fulfillment ripe.           65   
There all things are as they have ever been:      
For space is none to bound; nor pole divides.      
Our ladder reaches even to that clime;      
And so, at giddy distance, mocks thy view.      
Thither the patriarch Jacob 7 saw it stretch           70   
Its topmost round; when it appear’d to him      
With Angels laden. But to mount it now      
None lifts his foot from earth: and hence my rule      
Is left a profitless stain upon the leaves;      
The walls, for abbey rear’d, turn’d into dens;           75   
The cowls, to sacks choak’d up with musty meal.      
Foul usury doth not more lift itself      
Against God’s pleasure, than that fruit, which makes,      
The hearts of monks so wanton: for whate’er      
Is in the Church’s keeping, all pertains           80   
To such, as sue for Heaven’s sweet sake; and not      
To those, who in respect of kindred claim,      
Or on more vile allowance. Mortal flesh      
Is grown so dainty, good beginnings last not      
From the oak’s birth unto the acorn’s setting.           85   
His convent Peter founded without gold      
Or silver; I, with prayers and fasting, mine;      
And Francis, his in meek humility.      
And if thou note the point, whence each proceeds,      
Then look what it hath err’d to; thou shalt find           90   
The white grown murky. Jordan was turn’d back:      
And a less wonder, than the refluent sea,      
May, at God’s pleasure, work amendment here.”      
  So saying, to his assembly back he drew:      
And they together cluster’d into one;           95   
Then all roll’d upward, like an eddying wind.      
  The sweet dame beckon’d me to follow them:      
And, by that influence only, so prevail’d      
Over my nature, that no natural motion,      
Ascending or descending here below,           100   
Had, as I mounted, with my pennon vied.      
  So, reader, as my hope is to return      
Unto the holy triumph, for the which      
I oft-times wail my sins, and smite my breast;      
Thou hadst been longer drawing out and thrusting           105   
Thy finger in the fire, than I was, ere      
The sign, 8 that followeth Taurus, I beheld,      
And enter’d its precinct. O glorious stars!      
O light impregnate with exceeding virtue!      
To whom whate’er of genius lifteth me           110   
Above the vulgar, grateful I refer;      
With ye the parent 9 of all mortal life      
Arose and set, when I did first inhale      
The Tuscan air; and afterward, when grace      
Vouchsafed me entrance to the lofty wheel 10           115   
That in its orb impels ye, fate decreed      
My passage at your clime. To you my soul      
Devoutly sighs, for virtue, even now,      
To meet the hard emprise that draws me on.      
  “Thou art so near the sum of blessedness,”           120   
Said Beatrice, “that behoves thy ken      
Be vigilant and clear. And, to this end,      
Or ever thou advance thee further, hence      
Look downward, and contemplate, what a world      
Already stretch’d under our feet there lies:           125   
So as thy heart may, in its blithest mood,      
Present itself to the triumphal throng,      
Which, through the ethereal concave, comes rejoicing.”      
  I straight obey’d; and with mine eye return’d      
Through all the seven spheres; and saw this globe           130   
So pitiful of semblance, that perforce      
It moved my smiles: and him in truth I hold      
For wisest, who esteems it least; whose thoughts      
Elsewhere are fix’d, him worthiest call and best.      
I saw the daughter of Latona shine           135   
Without the shadow, 11 whereof late I deem’d      
That dense and rare were cause. Here I sustain’d      
The visage, Hyperion, of thy son; 12      
And mark’d, how near him with their circles, round      
Move Maia and Dione; 13 here discern’d           140   
Jove’s tempering ’twixt his sire and son; 14 and hence,      
Their changes and their various aspects,      
Distinctly scann’d. Nor might I not descry      
Of all the seven, how bulky each, how swift;      
Nor, of their several distances, not learn.           145   
This petty area, (o’er the which we stride      
So fiercely), as along the eternal Twins      
I wound my way, appear’d before me all,      
Forth from the havens stretch’d unto the hills.      
Then, to the beauteous eyes, mine eyes return’d.           150   
    
Note 1. “The vengeance.” Beatrice, it is supposed, intimates the approaching fate of Boniface VIII. See Purgatory, Canto xx. 86. [back]   
Note 2. A castle in the Terra di Lavoro. [back]   
Note 3. “A new order of monks, which in a manner absorbed all the others that were established in the west, was instituted, 529, by Benedict of Nursia, a man of piety and reputation for the age he lived in.” Maclaine’s Mosheim, Eccles. Hist. [back]   
Note 4. “Macarius, an Egyptian monk, deserves the first rank among the practical writers of the fourth century, as his works displayed, some few things excepted, the brightest and most lovely portraiture of sanctity and virtue.” Ibid. [back]   
Note 5. S. Romoaldo, a native of Ravenna, and the founder of the order of Camaldoli, died in 1027. He was the author of a commentary on the Psalms. [back]   
Note 6. “In the last sphere.” The Empyrean, where he afterward sees St. Benedict, Canto xxxii. 30. Beatified spirits, though they have different heavens allotted them, have all their seats in that higher sphere. [back]   
Note 7. “The patriarch Jacob.” “And he dreamed, and behold, a ladder set upon the earth, and the top of it reached to heaven: and behold the angels of God ascending and descending on it.”—Gen. xxviii. 12. [back]   
Note 8. “The sign.” The constellation of Gemini. [back]   
Note 9. “The parent.” The sun was in the constellation of the Twins at the time of Dante’s birth. [back]   
Note 10. “The lofty wheel.” The eighth heaven; that of the fixed stars. [back]   
Note 11. “Without the shadow.” See Canto ii. 71. [back]   
Note 12. “Of thy son.” The sun. [back]   
Note 13. “Maia and Dione.” The planets Mercury and Venus, Dione being the mother of the latter, and Maia of the former deity. [back]   
Note 14. “’Twixt his sire and son.” Betwixt Saturn and Mars.

   
Canto XXIII   
    
    
ARGUMENT.—He sees Christ triumphing with his Church. The Saviour ascends followed by his Virgin Mother. The others remain with St. Peter.   
    
    
E’EN as the bird, who midst the leafy bower      
Has, in her nest, sat darkling through the night,      
With her sweet brood; impatient to descry      
Their wished looks, and to bring home their food,      
In the fond quest unconscious of her toil:           5   
She, of the time prevenient, on the spray,      
That overhangs their couch, with wakeful gaze      
Expects the sun; nor ever, till the dawn,      
Removeth from the east her eager ken:      
So stood the dame erect, and bent her glance           10   
Wistfully on that region, 1 where the sun      
Abateth most his speed; that, seeing her      
Suspense and wondering, I became as one,      
In whom desire is waken’d, and the hope      
Of somewhat new to come fills with delight.           15   
  Short space ensued; I was not held, I say,      
Long in expectance, when I saw the Heaven      
Wax more and more resplendent; and, “Behold,”      
Cried Beatrice, “the triumphal hosts      
Of Christ, and all the harvest gather’d in,           20   
Made ripe by these revolving spheres.” Meseem’d,      
That, while she spake, her image all did burn;      
And in her eyes such fulness was of joy,      
As I am fain to pass unconstrued by.      
  As in the calm full moon, when Trivia 2 smiles,           25   
In peerless beauty, ’mid the eternal nymphs, 3      
That paint through all its gulfs the blue profound;      
In bright pre-eminence so saw I there      
O’er million lamps a Sun, from whom all drew      
Their radiance, as from ours the starry train:           30   
And, through the living light, so lustrous glow’d      
The substance, that my ken endured it not.      
  O Beatrice! sweet and precious guide,      
Who cheer’d me with her comfortable words:      
“Against the virtue, that o’erpowereth thee,           35   
Avails not to resist. Here is the Might, 4      
And here the Wisdom, which did open lay      
The path, that had been yearned for so long,      
Betwixt the Heaven and earth.” Like to the fire,      
That, in a cloud imprison’d, doth break out           40   
Expansive, so that from its womb enlarged,      
It falleth against nature to the ground;      
Thus, in that heavenly banqueting, my soul      
Outgrew herself; and, in the transport lost,      
Holds now remembrance none of what she was.           45   
  “Ope thou thine eyes, and mark me: thou hast seen      
Things, that empower thee to sustain my smile.”      
  I was as one, when a forgotten dream      
Doth come across him, and he strives in vain      
To shape it in his fantasy again:           50   
Whenas that gracious boon was proffer’d me,      
Which never may be cancel’d from the book      
Wherein the past is written. Now were all      
Those tongues to sound, that have, on sweetest milk      
Of Polyhymnia and her sisters, fed           55   
And fatten’d; not with all their help to boot,      
Unto the thousandth parcel of the truth,      
My song might shadow forth that saintly smile,      
How merely, in her saintly looks, it wrought.      
And, with such figuring of Paradise,           60   
The sacred strain must leap, like one that meets      
A sudden interruption to his road.      
But he, who thinks how ponderous the theme,      
And that ’tis laid upon a mortal shoulder,      
May pardon, if it tremble with the burden.           65   
The track, our venturous keel must furrow, brooks      
No unribb’d pinnace, no self-sparing pilot.      
  “Why doth my face,” said Beatrice, “thus      
Enamour thee, as that thou dost not turn      
Unto the beautiful garden, blossoming           70   
Beneath the rays of Christ? Here is the Rose, 5      
Wherein the Word Divine was made incarnate;      
And here the lilies,.. 6 by whose odour known      
The way of life was follow’d.” Prompt I heard      
Her bidding, and encounter’d once again           75   
The strife of aching vision. As, erewhile, [cloud,      
Through glance of sun-light, stream’d through broken      
Mine eyes a flower-besprinkled mead have seen;      
Though veil’d themselves in shade: so saw I there      
Legions of splendours, on whom burning rays           80   
Shed lightnings from above; yet saw I not      
The fountain whence they flow’d. O gracious Virtue      
Thou, whose broad stamp is on them, higher up      
Thou didst exalt Thy glory, 7 to give room      
To my o’erlabour’d sight; when at the name           85   
Of that fair flower, 8 whom duly I invoke      
Both morn and eve, my soul with all her might      
Collected, on the goodliest ardour fix’d.      
And, as the bright dimensions of the star      
In Heaven excelling, as once here on earth,           90   
Were, in my eye-balls livelily pourtray’d;      
Lo! from within the sky a cresset 9 fell,      
Circling in fashion of a diadem;      
And girt the star; and, hovering, round it wheel’d.      
  Whatever melody sounds sweetest here,           95   
And draws the spirit most onto itself,      
Might seem a rent cloud, when it grates the thunder;      
Compared unto the sounding of that lyre, 10      
Wherewith the goodliest sapphire, 11 that inlays      
The floor of Heaven was crown’d. “Angelic Love           100   
I am, who thus with hovering flight enwheel      
The lofty rapture from that womb inspired,      
Where our desire did dwell: and round thee so,      
Lady of Heaven! will hover; long as thou      
Thy Son shalt follow, and diviner joy           105   
Shall from thy presence gild the highest sphere.”      
  Such close was to the circling melody:      
And, as it ended, all the other lights      
Took up the strain, and echoed Mary’s name.      
  The robe, 12 that with its regal folds enwraps           110   
The world, and with the nearer breath of God      
Doth burn and quiver, held so far retired      
Its inner hem and skirting over us,      
That yet no glimmer of its majesty      
Had stream’d unto me: therefore were mine eyes           115   
Unequal to pursue the crowned flame, 13      
That towering rose, and sought the seed 14 it bore.      
And like to babe, that stretches forth its arms      
For every eagerness toward the breast,      
After the milk is taken; so outstretch’d           120   
Their wavy summits all the fervent band,      
Through zealous love to Mary: then, in view,      
There halted; and “Regina Cœli” 15 sang      
So sweetly, the delight hath left me never.      
  Oh! what o’erflowing plenty is up-piled           125   
In those rich-laden coffers, 16 which below      
Sow’d the good seed, whose harvest now they keep.      
Here are the treasures tasted, that with tears      
Were in the Babylonian exile 17 won,      
When gold had fail’d them. Here, in synod high           130   
Of ancient council with the new convened,      
Under the Son of Mary and of God,      
Victorious he 18 his mighty triumph holds,      
To whom the keys of glory were assign’d.      
    
Note 1. “That region.” Toward the south, where the course of the sun appears less rapid, than when he is in the east or the west. [back]   
Note 2. “Trivia.” A name of Diana. [back]   
Note 3. “The eternal nymphs.” The stars. Those starry nymphs which dance about the pole. Drummond Sonnet. [back]   
Note 4. “The Might.” Our Saviour. [back]   
Note 5. “The rose.” The Virgin Mary, who is termed by the Church, “Rosa Mystica.” “I was exalted like a palm-tree in Engaddi, and as a rose-plant in Jericho.”—Ecclesiasticus, xxiv. 14. [back]   
Note 6. “The lilies.” The Apostles. “And give ye a sweet savour as frankincense, and flourish as a lily.”—Ecclesiasticus, xxxix. 14. [back]   
Note 7. “Thou didst exalt thy glory.” The divine light retired upward, to render the eyes of Dante more capable of enduring the spectacle which now presented itself. [back]   
Note 8.
           “———the name   
Of that fair flower.”   
The name of the Virgin. [back]   
Note 9. “A cresset.” The angel Gabriel. [back]   
Note 10. “That lyre.” By synecdoche, the lyre is put for the angel. [back]   
Note 11. The Virgin. [back]   
Note 12. “The robe.” The ninth heaven, the primum mobile, that enfolds and moves the eight lower heavens. [back]   
Note 13. “The crowned flame.” The Virgin, with the angel hovering over her. [back]   
Note 14. “The seed.” Our Saviour. [back]   
Note 15. “Regina Cœli.” “The beginning of an anthem, sung by the Church at Easter, in honor of Our Lady.” [back]   
Note 16. “Those rich-laden coffers.” Those spirits, who, having sown the seed of good works on earth, now contain the fruit of their pious endeavors. [back]   
Note 17. “In the Babylonian exile.” During their abode in this world. [back]   
Note 18. “He.” St. Peter, with the other holy men of the Old and New Testaments.

Canto XXIV   
    
    
ARGUMENT.—St. Peter examines Dante touching Faith, and is contented with his answers.   
    
    
“O YE! in chosen fellowship advanced      
To the great supper of the blessed Lamb,      
Whereon who feeds hath every wish fulfill’d;      
If to this man through God’s grace be vouchsafed      
Foretaste of that, which from your table falls,           5   
Or ever death his fated term prescribe;      
Be ye not heedless of his urgent will:      
But may some influence of your sacred dews      
Sprinkle him. Of the fount ye always drink,      
Whence flows what most he craves.” Beatrice spake;           10   
And the rejoicing spirits, like to spheres      
On firm-set poles revolving, trail’d a blaze      
Of comet splendour: and as wheels, that wind      
Their circles in the horologe, so work      
The stated rounds, that to the observant eye           15   
The first seems still, and as it flew, the last;      
E’en thus their carols weaving variously,      
They, by the measure paced, or swift, or slow,      
Made me to rate the riches of their joy.      
  From that, which I did note in beauty most           20   
Excelling, saw I issue forth a flame      
So bright, as none was left more goodly there.      
Round Beatrice thrice it wheel’d about,      
With so divine a song, that fancy’s ear      
Records it not; and the pen passeth on,           25   
And leaves a blank: for that our mortal speech,      
Nor e’en the inward shaping of the brain,      
Hath colours fine enough to trace such folds.      
  “O saintly sister mine! thy prayer devout      
Is with so vehement affection urged,           30   
Thou dost unbind me from that beauteous sphere.”      
  Such were the accents towards my lady breathed      
From that blest ardour, soon as it was stay’d;      
To whom she thus: “O everlasting light      
Of him, within whose mighty grasp our Lord           35   
Did leave the keys, which of this wondrous bliss      
He bare below! tent this man as thou wilt,      
With lighter probe or deep, touching the faith,      
By the which thou didst on the billows walk.      
If he in love, in hope, and in belief,           40   
Be steadfast, is not hid from thee: for thou      
Hast there thy ken, where all things are beheld      
In liveliest portraiture. But since true faith      
Has peopled this fair realm with citizens;      
Meet is, that to exalt its glory more,           45   
Thou, in his audience, shouldst thereof discourse.”      
  Like to the bachelor, who arms himself,      
And speaks not, till the master have proposed      
The question, to approve, and not to end it;      
So I, in silence, arm’d me, while she spake,           50   
Summoning up each argument to aid;      
As was behoveful for such questioner,      
And such profession: “As good Christian ought,      
Declare thee, what is faith?” Whereat I raised      
My forehead to the light, whence this had breathed;           55   
Then turn’d to Beatrice; and in her looks      
Approval met, that from their inmost fount      
I should unlock the waters. “May the grace,      
That giveth me the captain of the Church      
For confessor,” said I, “vouchsafe to me           60   
Apt utterance for my thoughts;” then added: “Sire!      
E’en as set down by the unerring style      
Of thy dear brother, who with thee conspired      
To bring Rome in unto the way of life,      
Faith of things hoped is substance, and the proof           65   
Of things not see; and herein doth consist      
Methinks its essence.”—“Rightly hast thou deem’d,”      
Was answer’d; “if thou well discern, why first      
He hath defined it substance, and then proof.”      
  “The deep things,” I replied, “which here I scan           70   
Distinctly, are below from mortal eye      
So hidden, they have in belief alone      
Their being; on which credence, hope sublime      
Is built: and, therefore substance, it intends.      
And inasmuch as we must needs infer           75   
From such belief our reasoning, all respect      
To other view excluded; hence of proof      
The intention is derived.” Forthwith I heard:      
“If thus, whate’er by learning men attain,      
Were understood; the sophist would want room           80   
To exercise his wit.” So breathed the flame      
Of love; then added: “Current is the coin      
Thou utter’st, both in weight and in alloy.      
But tell me, if thou hast it in thy purse.”      
  “Even so glittering and so round,” said I,           85   
“I not a whit misdoubt of its assay.”      
Next issued from the deep-imbosom’d splendour:      
“Say, whence the costly jewel, on the which      
Is founded every virtue, came to thee.”      
  “The flood,” I answer’d, “from the Spirit of God           90   
Rain’d down upon the ancient bond and new, 1—      
Here is the reasoning that convinceth me      
So feelingly, each argument beside      
Seems blunt and forceless in comparison.”      
Then heard I: “Wherefore holdest thou that each,           95   
The elder proposition and the new,      
Which so persuade thee, are the voice of Heaven?”      
  “The works, that follow’d, evidence their truth,”      
I answer’d: “Nature did not make for these      
The iron hot, or on her anvil mould them.”           100   
  “Who voucheth to thee of the works themselves,”      
Was the reply, “that they in very deed      
Are that they purport? None hath sworn so to thee.”      
  “That all the world,” said I, “should have been turn’d      
To Christian, and no miracle been wrought,           105   
Would in itself be such a miracle,      
The rest were not an hundredth part so great.      
E’en thou went’st forth in poverty and hunger      
To set the goodly plant, that, from the vine      
It once was, now is grown unsightly bramble.”           110   
  That ended, through the high celestial court      
Resounded all the spheres, “Praise we one God!”      
In song of most unearthly melody.      
And when that Worthy 2 thus, from branch to branch,      
Examining, had led me, that we now           115   
Approach’d the topmost bough; he straight resumed:      
“The grace, that holds sweet dalliance with thy soul      
So far discreetly hath thy lips unclosed;      
That, whatsoe’er has past them, I commend.      
Behoves thee to express, what thou believest,           120   
The next; and, whereon, thy belief hath grown.”      
  “O saintly sire and spirit!” I began,      
“Who seest that, which thou didst so believe,      
As to outstrip feet younger than thine own,      
Toward the sepulchre; thy will is here,           125   
That I the tenour of my creed unfold;      
And thou, the cause of it, hast likewise ask’d.      
And I reply: I in one God believe;      
One sole eternal Godhead, of whose love      
All Heaven is moved, Himself unmoved the while.           130   
Nor demonstration physical alone,      
Or more intelligential and abstruse,      
Persuades me to this faith: but from that truth      
It cometh to me rather, which is shed      
Through Moses; the rapt Prophets; and the Psalms;           135   
The Gospel; and what ye yourselves did write,      
When ye were gifted of the Holy Ghost.      
I      
three eternal Persons I believe;      
Essence threefold and one; mysterious league           140   
Of union absolute, which, many a time,      
The word of gospel lore upon my mind      
Imprints: and from this germ, this firstling spark      
The lively flame dilates; and, like Heaven’s star,      
Doth glitter in me.” As the master hears,           145   
Well pleased, and then enfoldeth in his arms      
The servant, who hath joyful tidings brought,      
And having told the errand keeps his peace;      
Thus benediction uttering with song,      
Soon as my peace I held, compass’d me thrice           150   
The apostolic radiance, whose behest      
Had oped my lips: so well their answer pleased.      
    
Note 1. “The ancient bond and new.” The Old and New Testaments. [back]   
Note 2. “Quel Baron.” In the next Canto, St. James is called “Barone.” So in Boccaccio, G. vi. N. 10, we find “Baron Messer Santo Antonio.”

Canto XXV   
    
    
ARGUMENT.—St. James questions our Poet concerning Hope. Next St. John appears; and, on perceiving that Dante looks intently on him, informs him that he, St. John, had left his body resolved into earth, upon the earth, and that Christ and the Virgin alone had come with their bodies into Heaven.   
    
    
IF e’er the sacred poem, that hath made      
Both Heaven and earth copartners in its toil,      
And with lean abstinence, through many a year,      
Faded my brow, be destined to prevail      
Over the cruelty, which bars me forth           5   
Of the fair sheep-fold, 1 where, a sleeping lamb,      
The wolves set on and fain had worried me;      
With other voice, and fleece of other grain,      
I shall forthwith return; and, standing up      
At my baptismal font, shall claim the wreath           10   
Due to the poet’s temples: for I there      
First enter’d on the faith, which maketh souls      
Acceptable to God: and, for its sake, 2      
Peter had then circled my forehead thus.      
  Next from the squadron, whence had issued forth           15   
The first fruit of Christ’s vicars on the earth,      
Toward us moved a light, at view whereof      
My Lady, full of gladness, spake to me:      
“Lo! lo! behold the peer of mickle might,      
That makes Galicia throng’d with visitants.” 3           20   
  As when the ring-dove by his mate alights;      
In circles, each about the other wheels,      
And, murmuring, coos his fondness; thus saw I      
One, of the other 4 great and glorious prince,      
With kindly greeting, hail’d; extolling, both,           25   
Their heavenly banqueting: but when an end      
Was to their gratulation, silent, each,      
Before me sat they down, so burning bright,      
I could not look upon them. Smiling then,      
Beatrice spake: “O life in glory shrined!           30   
Who 5 didst the largess of our kingly court      
Set down with faithful pen, let now thy voice,      
Of hope the praises, in this height resound.      
For well thou know’st, who figurest it as oft,      
As Jesus, to ye three, more brightly shone.”           35   
  “Lift up thy head; and be thou strong in trust:      
For that, which hither from the mortal world      
Arriveth, must be ripen’d in our beam.”      
  Such cheering accents from the second flame 6      
Assured me; and mine eyes I lifted up 7           40   
Unto the mountains, that had bow’d them late      
With over-heavy burden. “Sith our Liege      
Wills of His grace, that thou, or e’er thy death,      
In the most secret council with His lords      
Shouldst be confronted, so that having view’d           45   
The glories of our court, thou mayest therewith      
Thyself, and all who hear, invigorate      
With hope, that leads to blissful end; declare,      
What is that hope? how it doth flourish in thee?      
And whence thou hadst it?” Thus, proceeding still,           50   
The second light: and she, whose gentle love      
My soaring pennons in that lofty flight      
Escorted, thus preventing me, rejoin’d:      
“Among her sons, not one more full of hope,      
Hath the Church Militant: so ’tis of him           55   
Recorded in the Sun, whose liberal orb      
Enlightened all our tribe: and ere his term      
Of warfare, hence permitted he is come,      
From Egypt to Jerusalem, 8 to see.      
The other points, both which 9 thou hast inquired,           60   
Not for more knowledge, but that he may tell      
How dear thou hold’st the virtue; these to him      
Leave I: for he may answer thee with ease,      
And without boasting, so God give him grace.”      
  Like to the scholar, practised in his task,           65   
Who, willing to give proof of diligence,      
Seconds his teacher gladly; “Hope,” said I,      
“Is of the joy to come a sure expectance,      
The effect of grace divine and merit preceding.      
This light from many a star, visits my heart;           70   
But flow’d to me, the first, from him who sang      
The songs of the Supreme; himself supreme      
Among his tuneful brethren. ‘Let all hope      
In thee,’ so spake his anthem, ‘who have known      
Thy name;’ and, with my faith, who knows not that?           75   
From thee, the next, distilling from his spring,      
In thine epistle, fell on me the drops      
So plenteously, that I on others shower      
The influence of their dew.” Whileas I spake,      
A lamping, as of quick and volley’d lightning,           80   
Within the bosom of that mighty sheen 10      
Play’d tremulous; then forth these accents breathed:      
“Love for the virtue, which attended me      
E’en to the palm, and issuing from the field,      
Glows vigorous yet within me; and inspires           85   
To ask of thee, whom also it delights,      
What promise thou from hope, in chief, dost win.”      
  “Both scriptures, new and ancient,” I replied,      
“Propose the mark (which even now I view)      
For souls beloved of God. Isaias 11 saith,           90   
‘That, in their own land, each one must be clad      
In two-fold vesture;’ and their proper land      
Is this delicious life. In terms more full,      
And clearer far, thy brother 12 hath set forth      
This revelation to us, where he tells           95   
Of the white raiment destined to the saints.”      
And, as the words were ending, from above,      
“They hope in Thee!” first heard we cried: whereto      
Answer’d the carols all. Amidst them next,      
A light of so clear amplitude emerged,           100   
That winter’s month were but a single day,      
Were such a crystal in the Cancer’s sign.      
  Like as a virgin riseth up, and goes,      
And enters on the mazes of the dance;      
Though gay, yet innocent of worse intent,           105   
Than to do fitting honour to the bride:      
So I beheld the new effulgence come      
Unto the other two, who in a ring      
Wheel’d, as became their rapture. In the dance,      
And in the song, it mingled. And the dame           110   
Held on them fix’d her looks; e’en as the spouse,      
Silent, and moveless. “This 13 is he, who lay      
Upon the bosom of our Pelican:      
This he, into whose keeping, from the Cross,      
The mighty charge was given.” Thus she spake:           115   
Yet therefore naught the more removed her sight      
From marking them: or e’er her words began,      
Or when they closed. As he, who looks intent,      
And strives with searching ken, how he may see      
The sun in his eclipse, and, through desire           120   
Of seeing, loseth power of sight; so I 14      
Peer’d on that last resplendence, while I heard:      
“Why dazzlest thou thine eyes in seeking that,      
Which here abides not? Earth my body is,      
In earth; and shall be, with the rest, so long,           125   
As till our number equal the decree      
Of the Most High. The two 15 that have ascended,      
In this our blessed cloister, shine alone      
With the two garments. So report below.”      
  As when, for ease of labour, or to shun           130   
Suspected peril, at a whistle’s breath,      
The oars, erewhile dash’d frequent in the wave,      
All rest: the flamy circle at that voice      
So rested; and the mingling sound was still,      
Which from the trinal band, soft-breathing, rose.           135   
I turn’d, but ah! how trembled in my thought,      
When, looking at my side again to see      
Beatrice, I described her not; although,      
Not distant, on the happy coast she stood.      
    
Note 1. Florence, whence he was banished. [back]   
Note 2. For the sake of that faith. [back]   
Note 3. “At the time that the sepulchre of the apostle St. James was discovered, the devotion for that place extended itself not only over all Spain, but even round about to foreign nations. Multitudes from all parts of the world came to visit it. Many others were deterred by the difficulty of the journey, by the roughness and barrenness of those parts, and by the incursions of the Moors, who made captives many of the pilgrims. The canons of St. Eloy, afterward (the precise time is not known), with a desire of remedying these evils, built, in many places along the whole road, which reached as far as to France, hospitals for the reception of the pilgrims.” [back]   
Note 4. “One , of the other.” St. Peter and St. James. [back]   
Note 5. “Who.” The Epistle of St. James is here attributed to the elder apostle of that name, whose shrine was at Compostella, in Galicia. [back]   
Note 6. “The second flame.” St. James. [back]   
Note 7. “I lifted up.” “I looked up to the apostles.” “I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help.”—Psalm cxxi. I. [back]   
Note 8. From the lower world to Heaven. [back]   
Note 9. One point Beatrice has herself answered: “how that hope flourishes in him.” The other two remain for Dante to resolve. [back]   
Note 10. “That mighty sheen.” The spirit of St. James. [back]   
Note 11. “Isaias.” “He hath clothed me with the garments of salvation, he hath covered me with the robe of righteousness.—Chap. lxi. 10. [back]   
Note 12. “Thy brother.” St. John in the Rev. vii. 9. [back]   
Note 13. St. John, who reclined on the bosom of our Saviour, and to whose charge Jesus recommended his mother. [back]   
Note 14. “So I.” He looked so earnestly, to descry whether St. John were present there in body, or in spirit only; having had his doubts raised by that saying of our Saviour’s: “If I will, that he tarry till I come, what is that to thee?” [back]   
Note 15. Christ and Mary, described in Canto xxiii. as rising above his sight.

   
Canto XXVI   
    
    
ARGUMENT.—St. John examines our Poet touching Charity. Afterward Adam tells when he was created, and placed in the terrestrial Paradise; how long he remained in that state; what was the occasion of his fall; when he was admitted into Heaven; and what language he spake.   
    
    
WITH dazzled eyes, whilst wondering I remain’d;      
Forth of the beamy flame, 1 which dazzled me,      
Issued a breath, that in attention mute      
Detain’d me; and these words it spake: “’Twere well      
That, long as till thy vision, on my form           5   
O’erspent, regain its virtue, with discourse      
Thou compensate the brief delay. Say then,      
Beginning, to what point thy soul aspires:      
And meanwhile rest assured, that sight in thee      
Is but o’erpower’d a space, not wholly quench’d;           10   
Since thy fair guide and lovely, in her look      
Hath potency, the like to that, which dwelt      
In Ananias’ hand.” 2 I answering thus:      
“Be to mine eyes the remedy, or late      
Or early, at her pleasure; for they were           15   
The gates, at which she enter’d, and did light      
Her never-dying fire. My wishes here      
Are centred: in this palace is the weal,      
That Alpha and Omega is, to all      
The lessons love can read me.” Yet again           20   
The voice, which had dispersed my fear when dazed      
With that excess, to converse urged, and spake:      
“Behoves thee sift more narrowly thy terms;      
And say, who level’d at this scope thy bow.”      
  “Philosophy,” said I, “hath arguments,           25   
And this place hath authority enough,      
To imprint in me such love: for, of constraint,      
Good, inasmuch as we perceive the good,      
Kindles our love; and in degree the more,      
As it comprises more of goodness in ’t.           30   
The essence then, where such advantage is,      
That each good, found without it, is naught else      
But of His light the beam, must needs attract      
The soul of each one, loving, who the truth      
Discerns, on which this proof is built. Such truth           35   
Learn I from Him, who shows me the first love      
Of all intelligential substances      
Eternal: from His voice I learn, whose word      
Is truth; that of Himself to Moses saith,      
‘I will make all My good before thee pass:’           40   
Lastly, from thee I learn, who chief proclaim’st,      
E’en at the outset 3 of thy heralding,      
In mortal ears the mystery of Heaven.”      
  “Through human wisdom, and the authority      
Therewith agreeing,” heard I answer’d, “keep           45   
The choicest of thy love for God. But say,      
If thou yet other cords within thee feel’st,      
That draw thee towards Him; so that thou report      
How many are the fangs, with which this love      
Is grappled to thy soul.” I did not miss,           50   
To what intent the eagle of our Lord 4      
Had pointed his demand; yea, noted well      
The avowal which he led to; and resumed:      
“All grappling bonds, that knit the heart to God,      
Confederate to make fast our charity.           55   
The being of the world; and mine own being;      
The death which He endured, that I should live;      
And that, which all the faithful hope, as I do;      
To the foremention’d lively knowledge join’d;      
Have from the sea of ill love saved my bark,           60   
And on the coast secured it of the right.      
As for the leaves, 5 that in the garden bloom,      
My love for them is great, as is the good      
Dealt by the eternal hand, that tends them all.”      
  I ended: and therewith a song most sweet           65   
Rang through the spheres; and “Holy, holy, holy,”      
Accordant with the rest, my lady sang.      
And as a sleep is broken and dispersed      
Through sharp encounter of the nimble light,      
With the eye’s spirit running forth to meet           70   
The ray, from membrane on to membrane urged;      
And the upstartled wight loathes that he sees;      
So, at his sudden waking, he misdeems      
Of all around him, till assurance waits      
On better judgment: thus the saintly dame           75   
Drove from before mine eyes the motes away,      
With the resplendence of her own, that cast      
Their brightness downward, thousand miles below.      
Whence I my vision, clearer than before,      
Recover’d; and well nigh astounded, ask’d           80   
Of a fourth light, that now with us I saw.      
  And Beatrice: “The first living soul, 6      
That ever the first Virtue framed, admires      
Within these rays his Maker.” Like the leaf,      
That bows its lithe top till the blast is blown;           85   
By its own virtue rear’d, then stands aloof:      
So I, the whilst she said, awe-stricken bow’d.      
Then eagerness to speak embolden’d me;      
And I began: “O fruit! that wast alone      
Mature, when first engender’d; ancient father!           90   
That doubly seest in every wedded bride      
Thy daughter, by affinity and blood;      
Devoutly as I may, I pray thee hold      
Converse with me: my will thou seest: and I,      
More speedily to hear thee, tell it not.”           95   
  It chanceth oft some animal bewrays,      
Through the sleek covering of his furry coat,      
The fondness, that stirs in him, and conforms      
His outside seeming to the cheer within:      
And in like guise was Adam’s spirit moved           100   
To joyous mood, that through the covering shone,      
Transparent, when to pleasure me it spake:      
“No need thy will be told, which I untold      
Better discern, than thou whatever thing      
Thou hold’st most certain: for that will I see           105   
In Him, who is truth’s mirror; and Himself,      
Parhelion unto all things, and naught else,      
To Him. This wouldst thou hear: how long since, God      
Placed me in that high garden, from whose bounds      
She led thee up this ladder, steep and long;           110   
What space endured my season of delight;      
Whence truly sprang the wrath that banish’d me;      
And what the language, which I spake and framed.      
Not that I tasted of the tree, my son,      
Was in itself the cause of that exile,           115   
But only my transgressing of the mark      
Assign’d me. There, whence 7 at thy lady’s hest      
The Mantuan moved him, still was I debarr’d      
This council, till the sun had made complete,      
Four thousand and three hundred rounds and twice,           120   
His annual journey; and, through every light      
In his broad pathway, saw I him return,      
Thousand save seventy times, the whilst I dwelt      
Upon the earth. The language I did use      
Was worn away, or ever Nimrod’s race           125   
Their unaccomplishable work began.      
For naught, that man inclines to, e’er was lasting;      
Left by his reason free, and variable      
As is the sky that sways him. That he speaks,      
Is nature’s prompting: whether thus, or thus,           130   
She leaves to you, as ye do most affect it.      
Ere I descended into Hell’s abyss,      
El was the name on earth of the Chief Good,      
Whose joy enfolds me: Eli then ’twas call’d.      
  And so beseemeth: for, in mortals, use           135   
Is as the leaf upon the bough: that goes,      
And other comes instead. Upon the mount      
Most high above the waters, all my life,      
Both innocent and guilty, did but reach      
From the first hour, to that which cometh next           140   
(As the sun changes quarter) to the sixth.”      
    
Note 1. “The beamy flame.” St. John. [back]   
Note 2. “Ananias’ hand.” Who, by putting his hand on St. Paul, restored his sight. Acts, ix. 17. [back]   
Note 3. “At the outset.” John i. I, etc. [back]   
Note 4. “The eagle of our Lord.” St. John. [back]   
Note 5. “The leaves.” Created beings. [back]   
Note 6. “The first living soul.” Adam. [back]   
Note 7. “Whence.” That is, from Limbo. See Hell, Canto ii. 53. Adam says that 5,232 years elapsed from his creation to the time of his deliverance, which followed the death of Christ

   
Canto XXVII   
    
    
ARGUMENT.—St. Peter bitterly rebukes the covetousness of his successors in the Apostolic See, while all the heavenly host sympathize in his indignation; they then vanish upward. Beatrice bids Dante again cast his view below. Afterward they are borne into the ninth heaven, of which she shows him the nature and properties; blaming the perverseness of man, who places his will on low and perishable things.   
    
    
THEN “Glory to the Father, to the Son,      
And to the Holy Spirit,” rang aloud      
Throughout all Paradise; that with the song      
My spirit reel’d, so passing sweet the strain.      
And what I saw was equal ecstasy:           5   
One universal smile it seem’d of all things;      
Joy past compare; gladness unutterable;      
Imperishable life of peace and love;      
Exhaustless riches, and unmeasured bliss.      
  Before mine eyes stood the four torches 1 lit:           10   
And that, 2 which first had come, began to wax      
In brightness; and, in semblance, such became,      
As Jove might be, if he and Mars were birds,      
And interchanged their plumes. Silence ensued,      
Through the blest quire; by Him, who here appoints           15   
Vicissitude of ministry, enjoin’d;      
When thus I heard: “Wonder not, if my hue      
Be changed; for, while I speak, these shalt thou see      
All in like manner change with me. My place      
He 3 who usurps on earth, (my place, ay, mine,           20   
Which in the presence of the Son of God      
Is void,) the same hath made my cemetery      
A common sewer of puddle and of blood:      
The more below his triumph, who from hence      
Malignant fell.” Such colour, as the sun,           25   
At eve or morning, paints an adverse cloud,      
Then saw I sprinkled over all the sky.      
And as the unblemish’d dame, who, in herself      
Secure of censure, yet at bare report      
Of other’s failing, shrinks with maiden fear;           30   
So Beatrice, in her semblance, changed:      
And such eclipse in Heaven, methinks, was seen,      
When the Most Holy suffer’d. Then the words      
Proceeded, with voice, alter’d from itself      
So clean, the semblance did not alter more.           35   
“Not to this end was Christ’s spouse with my blood,      
With that of Linus, and of Cletus, 4 fed;      
That she might serve for purchase of base gold:      
But for the purchase of this happy life,      
Did Sextus, Pius, and Callixtus bleed,           40   
And Urban; 5 they, whose doom was not without      
Much weeping seal’d. No purpose was of ours, 6      
That on the right hand of our successors,      
Part of the Christian people should be set,      
And part upon their left; nor that the keys,           45   
Which were vouchsafed me, should for ensign serve      
Unto the banners, that do levy war      
On the baptized; nor I, for sigil-mark,      
Set upon sold and lying privileges:      
Which makes me oft to bicker and turn red.           50   
In shepherd’s clothing, greedy wolves 7 below      
Range wide o’er all the pastures. Arm of God!      
Why longer sleep’st thou? Cahorsines and Gascons 8      
Prepare to quaff our blood. O good beginning!      
To what a vile conclusion must thou stoop.           55   
But the high Providence, which did defend,      
Through Scipio, the world’s empery for Rome,      
Will not delay its succour: and thou, son,      
Who through thy mortal weight shalt yet again      
Return below, open thy lips, nor hide           60   
What is by me not hidden.” As a flood      
Of frozen vapours streams adown the air,      
What time the she-goat 9 with her skiey horn      
Touches the sun; so saw I there stream wide      
The vapours, who with us had linger’d late,           65   
And with glad triumph deck the ethereal cope.      
Onward my sight their semblances pursued;      
So far pursued, as till the space between      
From its reach sever’d them: whereat the guide      
Celestial, marking me no more intent           70   
On upward gazing, said, “Look down, and see      
What circuit thou hast compast.” From the hour 10      
When I before had cast my view beneath,      
All the first region overpast I saw,      
Which from the midmost to the boundary winds;           75   
That onward, thence, from Gades, 11 I beheld      
The unwise passage of Laertes’ son;      
And hitherward the shore, 12 where thou Europa,      
Madest thee a joyful burden; and yet more      
Of this dim spot had seen, but that the sun, 13           80   
A constellation off and more, had ta’en      
His progress in the zodiac underneath.      
  Then by the spirit, that doth never leave      
Its amorous dalliance with my lady’s looks,      
Back with redoubled ardour were mine eyes           85   
Led unto her: and from her radiant smiles,      
Whenas I turn’d me, pleasure so divine      
Did lighten on me, that whatever bait      
Or art or nature in the human flesh,      
Or in its limn’d resemblance, can combine           90   
Through greedy eyes to take the soul withal,      
Were, to her beauty, nothing. Its boon influence      
From the fair nest of Leda 14 rapt me forth,      
And wafted on into the swiftest Heaven.      
  What place for entrance Beatrice chose,           95   
I may not say; so uniform was all,      
Liveliest and loftiest. She my secret wish      
Divined; and, with such gladness, that God’s love      
Seem’d from her visage shining, thus began:      
“Here is the goal, whence motion on his race           100   
Starts: motionless the centre, and the rest      
All moved around. Except the soul divine.      
Place in this Heaven is none; the soul divine,      
Wherein the love, which ruleth o’er its orb,      
Is kindled, and the virtue, that it sheds:           105   
One circle, light and love, enclasping it,      
As this doth clasp the others; and to Him,      
Who draws the bound, its limit only known.      
Measured itself by none, it doth divide      
Motion to all, counted unto them forth,           110   
As by the fifth or half ye count forth ten.      
The vase, wherein time’s roots are plunged, thou seest:      
Look elsewhere for the leaves. O mortal lust!      
That canst not lift thy head above the waves      
Which whelm and sink thee down. The will in man           115   
Bears goodly blossoms; but its ruddy promise      
Is, by the dripping of perpetual rain,      
Made mere abortion: faith and innocence      
Are met with but in babes; each taking leave,      
Ere cheeks with down are sprinkled: he, that fasts           120   
While yet a stammerer, with his tongue let loose      
Gluts every food alike in every moon:      
One, yet a babbler, loves and listens to      
His mother; but no sooner hath free use      
Of speech, than he doth wish her in her grave.           125   
So suddenly doth the fair child of him,      
Whose welcome is the morn and eve his parting,      
To negro blackness change her virgin white.      
  “Thou, to abate thy wonder, note, that none      
Bears rule in earth; and its frail family           130   
Are therefore wanderers. Yet before the date,      
When through the hundredth in his reckoning dropt,      
Pale January must be shoved aside      
From winter’s calendar, these heavenly spheres      
Shall roar so loud, that fortune shall be fain 15           135   
To turn the poop, where she hath now the prow;      
So that the fleet run onward: and true fruit,      
Expected long, shall crown at last the bloom.”      
    
Note 1. “Four torches.” St. Peter, St. James, St. John, and Adam. [back]   
Note 2. “That.” St. Peter, who looked as the planet Jupiter would, if it assumed the sanguine appearance of Mars. [back]   
Note 3. “He.” Boniface VIII. [back]   
Note 4. Bishops of Rome in the first century. [back]   
Note 5. The former two, bishops of the same see, in the second; and the others, in the fourth century. [back]   
Note 6. “We did not intend that our successors should take any part in the political divisions among Christians; or that my figure (the seal of St. Peter) should serve as a mark to authorize iniquitous grants and privileges.” [back]   
Note 7. “Wolves shall succeed to teachers, grievous wolves.”—Milton, “Paradise Lost,” b. xii 508. [back]   
Note 8. He alludes to Jacques d’Ossa, a native of Cahors, pope, as John XXII, in 1316, after the chair had been two years vacant, and to Clement V, a Gascon. [back]   
Note 9. When the sun is in Capricorn. [back]   
Note 10. “From the hour.” Since he had last looked (see Canto xxii) he perceived that he had passed from the meridian circle to the eastern horizon; the half of our hemisphere, and a quarter of the heaven. [back]   
Note 11. See Hell, Canto xxvi. 106. [back]   
Note 12. Phœnicia, where Europa, daughter of Agenor, mounted on the back of Jupiter, in his shape of a bull. [back]   
Note 13. “The sun.” Dante was in the constellation of Gemini, and the sun in Aries. There was, therefore, part of those two constellations, and the whole of Taurus, between them. [back]   
Note 14. “The fair nest of Leda.” From the Gemini; thus called, because Leda was the mother of the twins, Castor and Pollux. [back]   
Note 15. “Fortune shall be fain.” The commentators in general suppose that our Poet here augurs that great reform which he vainly hoped would follow on the arrival of the Emperor Henry VII in Italy.

Canto XXVIII   
    
    
ARGUMENT.—Still in the ninth heaven, our Poet is permitted to behold the divine essence; and then sees, in three hierarchies, the nine choirs of angels. Beatrice clears some difficulties which occur to him on this occasion.   
    
    
SO she, who doth imparadise my soul,      
Had drawn the veil from off our present life,      
And bared the truth of poor mortality:      
When lo! as one who, in a mirror, spies      
The shining of a flambeau at his back,           5   
Lit sudden ere he deem of its approach,      
And turneth to resolve him, if the glass      
Have told him true, and sees the record faithful      
As note is to its metre; even thus,      
I well remember, did befal to me,           10   
Looking upon the beauteous eyes, whence love      
Had made the leash to take me. As I turn’d:      
And that which none, who in that volume looks,      
Can miss of, in itself apparent, struck      
My view; a point I saw, that darted light           15   
So sharp, no lid, unclosing, may bear up      
Against its keenness. The least star we ken      
From hence, had seem’d a moon; set by its side,      
As star by side of star. And so far off,      
Perchance, as is the halo from the light           20   
Which paints it, when most dense the vapour spreads;      
There wheel’d about the point a circle of fire,      
More rapid than the motion which surrounds,      
Speediest, the world. Another this enring’d;      
And that a third; the third a fourth, and that           25   
A fifth encompass’d; which a sixth next bound;      
And over this, a seventh, following, reach’d      
Circumference so ample, that its bow,      
Within the span of Juno’s messenger,      
Had scarce been held entire. Beyond a seventh,           30   
Ensued yet other two. And every one,      
As more in number distant from the first,      
Was tardier in motion: and that glow’d      
With flame most pure, that to the sparkle of truth,      
Was nearest; as partaking most, methinks,           35   
Of its reality. The guide beloved      
Saw me in anxious thought suspense, and spake:      
“Heaven, and all nature, hangs upon that point.      
The circle thereto most conjoin’d observe;      
And know, that by intenser love its course           40   
Is, to this swiftness, wing’d.” To whom I thus:      
“It were enough; nor should I further seek,      
Had I but witness’d order, in the world      
Appointed, such as in these wheels is seen.      
But in the sensible world such difference is,           45   
That in each round shows more divinity,      
As each is wider from the centre. Hence,      
If in this wondrous and angelic temple,      
That hath, for confine, only light and love,      
My wish may have completion, I must know,           50   
Wherefore such disagreement is between      
The exemplar and its copy: for myself,      
Contemplating, I fail to pierce the cause.”      
  “It is no marvel, if thy fingers foil’d      
Do leave the knot untied: so hard ’tis grown           55   
For want of tenting.” Thus she said: “But take,”      
She added, “if thou wish thy cure, my words,      
And entertain them subtly. Every orb,      
Corporeal, doth proportion its extent      
Unto the virtue through its parts diffused.           60   
The greater blessedness preserves the more,      
The greater is the body (if all parts      
Share equally) the more is to preserve.      
Therefore the circle, whose swift course enwheels      
The universal frame, answers to that           65   
Which is supreme in knowledge and in love.      
Thus by the virtue, not the seeming breadth      
Of substance, measuring, thou shalt see the Heavens,      
Each to the intelligence that ruleth it,      
Greater to more, and smaller unto less,           70   
Suited in strict and wondrous harmony.”      
  As when the north blows from his milder cheek      
A blast, that scours the sky, forthwith our air,      
Clear’d of the rack that hung on it before,      
Glitters; and, with his beauties all unveil’d,           75   
The firmament looks forth serene, and smiles:      
Such was my cheer, when Beatrice drove      
With clear reply the shadows back, and truth      
Was manifested, as a star in Heaven.      
And when the words were ended, not unlike           80   
To iron in the furnace, every cirque,      
Ebullient, shot forth scintillating fires:      
And every sparkle shivering to new blaze,      
In number 1 did outmillion the account      
Reduplicate upon the chequer’d board.           85   
Then heard I echoing on, from choir to choir,      
“Hosanna,” to the fixed point, that holds,      
And shall for ever hold them to their place,      
From everlasting, irremovable.      
  Musing awhile I stood: and she, who saw           90   
My inward meditations, thus began:      
“In the first circles, they, whom thou beheld’st      
Are Seraphim and Cherubim. Thus swift      
Follow their hoops, in likeness to the point,      
Near as they can, approaching; and they can           95   
The more, the loftier their vision. Those      
That round them fleet, gazing the Godhead next,      
Are Thrones; in whom the first trine ends. And all      
Are blessed, even as their sight descends      
Deeper into the Truth, wherein rest is           100   
For every mind. Thus happiness hath root      
In seeing, not in loving, which of sight      
Is aftergrowth. And of the seeing such      
The meed, as unto each, in due degree,      
Grace and good-will their measure have assign’d.           105   
The other trine, that with still opening buds      
In this eternal springtide blossom fair,      
Fearless of bruising from the nightly ram, 2      
Breathe up in warbled melodies threefold      
Hosannas, blending ever; from the three,           110   
Transmitted, hierarchy of gods, for aye      
Rejoicing; dominations first; next them,      
Virtues; and powers the third; the next to whom      
Are princedoms and archangels, with glad round      
To tread their festal ring; and last, the band           115   
Angelical, disporting in their sphere.      
All, as they circle in their orders, look      
Aloft; and, downward, with such sway prevail,      
That all with mutual impulse tend to God.      
These once a mortal view beheld. Desire           120   
In Dionysius, 3 so intensely wrought,      
That he, as I have done, ranged them; and named,      
Their orders, marshal’d in his thought. From him,      
Dissentient, one refused his sacred read.      
But soon as in this Heaven his doubting eyes           125   
Were open’d, Gregory 4 at his error smiled.      
Nor marvel, that a denizen of earth      
Should scan such secret truth; for he had learnt 5      
Both this and much beside of these our orbs,      
From an eye-witness to Heaven’s mysteries.”           130   
    
Note 1. “In number.” The sparkles exceeded the number which would be produced by the sixty-four squares of a chess-board, if for the first we reckoned one; for the next, two; for the third, four; and so went on doubling to the end of the account. [back]   
Note 2. Not injured, like spring products, by the influence of autumn, when the constellation Aries rises at sunset. [back]   
Note 3. The Areopagite, in his book “De Cœlesti Hierarchiâ.” [back]   
Note 4. “Gregory.” Gregory the Great. [back]   
Note 5. “He had learnt.” Dionysius, he says, had learnt from St. Paul. The book above referred to, which goes under his name, was the production of a later age. In Bishop Bull’s seventh sermon, which treats of the different degrees of beatitude in Heaven, there is much that resembles what is said on the same subject by our Poet. The learned prelate, however, appears a little inconsistent, when, after having blamed Dionysius the Areopagite, “for reckoning up exactly the several orders of the angelical hierarchy, as if he had seen a muster of the heavenly host before his eyes” (v. i. p. 313), he himself speaks more particularly of the several orders in the celestial hierarchy than Holy Scripture warrants.

Canto XXIX   
    
    
ARGUMENT.—Beatrice beholds, in the mirror of divine truth, some doubts which had entered the mind of Dante. These she resolves; and then digresses into a vehement reprehension of certain theologians and preachers in those days, whose ignorance or avarice induced them to substitute their own inventions for the pure word of the Gospel.   
    
    
NO longer, than what time Latona’s twins      
Cover’d of Libra and the fleecy star,      
Together both, girding the horizon hang;      
In even balance, from the zenith poised;      
Till from that verge, each, changing hemisphere,           5   
Part the nice level; e’en so brief a space      
Did Beatrice’s silence hold. A smile      
Sat painted on her cheek; and her fix’d gaze      
Bent on the point, at which my vision fail’d:      
When thus, her words resuming, she began:           10   
“I speak, nor what thou wouldst inquire demand;      
For I have mark’d it, where all time and place      
Are present. Not for increase to Himself      
Of good, which may not be increased, but forth      
To manifest His glory by its beams;           15   
Inhabiting His own eternity,      
Beyond time’s limit or what bound soe’er      
To circumscribe His being; as He will’d,      
Into new natures, like unto Himself,      
Eternal Love unfolded. Nor before,           20   
As if in dull inaction, torpid, lay.      
For, not in process of before or aft,      
Upon these waters moved the Spirit of God.      
Simple and mix’d, both form and substance, forth      
To perfect being started, like three darts           25   
Shot from a bow three-corded. And as ray      
In crystal, glass, and amber, shines entire,      
E’en at the moment of its issuing; thus      
Did, from the eternal Sovran, beam entire      
His threefold operation, at one act           30   
Produced coeval. Yet, in order, each      
Created his due station knew: those highest,      
Who pure intelligence were made; mere power,      
The lowest; in the midst, bound with strict league,      
Intelligence and power, unsever’d bond.           35   
Long tract of ages by the Angels past,      
Ere the creating of another world,      
Described on Jerome’s pages, 1 thou hast seen.      
But that what I disclose to thee is true,      
Those penmen, 2 whom the Holy Spirit moved           40   
In many a passage of their sacred book,      
Attest; as thou by diligent search shalt find:      
And reason, 3 in some sort, discerns the same,      
Who scarce would grant the heavenly ministers,      
Of their perfection void, so long a space.           45   
Thus when and where these spirits of love were made,      
Thou know’st, and how: and, knowing, hast allay’d      
Thy thirst, which from the triple question 4 rose.      
Ere one had reckon’d twenty, e’en so soon,      
Part of the Angels fell: and in their fall,           50   
Confusion to your elements ensued.      
The others kept their station: and this task,      
Whereon thou look’st, began, with such delight,      
That they surcease not ever, day nor night,      
Their circling. Of that fatal lapse the cause           55   
Was the curst pride of him, whom thou hast seen      
Pent with the world’s incumbrance. Those, whom here      
Thou seest, were lowly to confess themselves      
Of His free bounty, who had made them apt      
For ministeries so high: therefore their views           60   
Were, by enlightening grace and their own merit,      
Exalted; so that in their will confirm’d      
They stand, nor fear to fall. For do not doubt,      
But to receive the grace, which Heaven vouchsafes,      
Is meritorious, even as the soul           65   
With prompt affection welcometh the guest.      
Now, without further help, if with good heed      
My words thy mind have treasured, thou henceforth      
This consistory round about mayst scan,      
And gaze thy fill. But, since thou hast on earth           70   
Heard vain disputers, reasoners in the schools,      
Canvass the angelic nature, and dispute      
Its powers of apprehension, memory, choice;      
Therefore, ’tis well thou take from me the truth,      
Pure and without disguise; which they below,           75   
Equivocating, darken and perplex.      
  “Know thou, that, from the first, these substances,      
Rejoicing in the countenance of God,      
Have held unceasingly their view, intent      
Upon the glorious vision, from the which           80   
Nought absent is nor hid: where then no change      
Of newness, with succession, interrupts,      
Remembrance, there, needs none to gather up      
Divided thought and images remote.      
  “So that men, thus at variance with the truth,           85   
Dream, though their eyes be open; reckless some      
Of error; others well aware they err,      
To whom more guilt and shame are justly due.      
Each the known track of sage philosophy      
Deserts, and has a bye-way of his own:           90   
So much the restless eagerness to shine,      
And love of singularity prevail.      
Yet this, offensive as it is, provokes      
Heaven’s anger less, than when the Book of God      
Is forced to yield to man’s authority,           95   
Or from its straightness warp’d: no reckoning made      
What blood the sowing of it in the world      
Has cost; what favour for himself he wins,      
Who meekly clings to it. The aim of all      
Is how to shine: e’en they, whose office is           100   
To preach the Gospel, let the Gospel sleep,      
And pass their own inventions off instead.      
One tells, how at Christ’s suffering the wan moon      
Bent back her steps, and shadow’d o’er the sun      
With intervenient disk, as she withdrew:           105   
Another, how the light shrouded itself      
Within its tabernacle, and left dark      
The Spaniard, and the Indian, with the Jew.      
Such fables Florence in her pulpit hears,      
Bandied about more frequent, than the names           110   
Of Bindi and of Lapi 5 in her streets.      
The sheep, meanwhile, poor witless ones, return      
From pasture, fed with wind: and what avails      
For their excuse, they do not see their harm?      
Christ said not to His first conventicle,           115   
‘Go forth and preach impostures to the world,’      
But gave them truth to build on; and the sound      
Was mighty on their lips: nor needed they,      
Beside the Gospel, other spear or shield,      
To aid them in their warfare for the faith.           120   
The preacher now provides himself with store      
Of jests and gibes; and, so there be no lack      
Of laughter, while he vents them, his big cowl      
Distends, and he has won the meed he sought:      
Could but the vulgar catch a glimpse the while           125   
Of that dark bird which nestles in his hood,      
They scarce would wait to hear the blessing said,      
Which now the dotards hold in such esteem,      
That every counterfeit, who spreads abroad      
The hands of holy promise, finds a throng           130   
Of credulous fools beneath. Saint Anthony      
Fattens with this his swine, 6 and others worse      
Than swine, who diet at his lazy board,      
Paying with unstampt metal 7 for their fare,      
  “But (for we far have wander’d) let us seek           135   
The forward path again; so as the way      
Be shorten’d with the time. No mortal tongue,      
Nor thought of man, hath ever reach’d so far,      
That of these natures he might count the tribes.      
What Daniel 8 of their thousands hath reveal’d,           140   
With finite number, infinite conceals.      
The fountain, at whose source these drink their beams,      
With light supplies them in as many modes,      
As there are splendours that it shines on: each      
According to the virtue it conceives,           145   
Differing in love and sweet affection.      
Look then how lofty and how huge in breadth      
The eternal Might, which, broken and dispersed      
Over such countless mirrors, yet remains      
Whole in itself and one, as at the first.”           150   
    
Note 1. Jerome had described the Angels as created long before the rest of the universe; an opinion which Thomas Aquinas controverted. [back]   
Note 2. As in Gen. i. I, and Eccles. xviii. I. [back]   
Note 3. “Reason.” The heavenly ministers (“motori”) would have existed to no purpose if they had been created before the corporeal world, which they were to govern. [back]   
Note 4. He had wished to know where, when, and how the Angels had been created, and these three questions had been resolved. [back]   
Note 5. Common names at Florence. [back]   
Note 6. On the sale of these blessings, the brothers of St. Anthony supported themselves and their paramours. From behind the swine of St. Anthony, our Poet levels a blow at Boniface VIII, from whom, in 1297, they obtained the privileges of an independent congregation. [back]   
Note 7. With false indulgences. [back]   
Note 8. “Daniel.” “Thousand thousands ministered unto him, and ten thousand times ten thousand stood before him”—Dan. vii. 10.

   
Canto XXX   
    
    
ARGUMENT.—Dante is taken up with Beatrice into the empyrean; and there having his sight strengthened by her aid, and by the virtue derived from looking on the river of light, he sees the triumph of the Angels and of the souls of the blessed.   
    
    
NOON’S fervid hour perchance six thousand miles 1      
From hence is distant; and the shadowy cone      
Almost to level on our earth declines;      
When, from the midmost of this blue abyss,      
By turns some star is to our vision lost.           5   
And straightway as the handmaid of the sun      
Puts forth her radiant brow, all, light by light,      
Fade; and the spangled firmament shuts in,      
E’en to the loveliest of the glittering throng.      
Thus vanish’d gradually from my sight           10   
The triumph, which plays ever round the point,      
That overcame me, seeming (for it did)      
Engirt 2 by that it girdeth. Wherefore love,      
With loss of other object, forced me bend      
Mine eyes on Beatrice once again.           15   
  If all, that hitherto is told of her,      
Were in one praise concluded, ’twere too weak      
To furnish out this turn. Mine eyes did look      
On beauty, such, as I believe in sooth,      
Not merely to exceed our human; but,           20   
That save its Maker, none can to the full      
Enjoy it. At this point o’erpower’d I fail;      
Unequal to my theme; as never bard      
Of buskin or of sock hath fail’d before.      
For as the sun doth to the feeblest sight,           25   
E’en so remembrance of that witching smile      
Hath dispossest my spirit of itself.      
Not from that day, when on this earth I first      
Beheld her charms, up to that view of them,      
Have I with song applausive ever ceased           30   
To follow; but now follow them no more;      
My course here bounded, as each artist’s is,      
When it doth touch the limit of his skill.      
  She (such as I bequeath her to the bruit      
Of louder trump than mine, which hasteneth on           35   
Urging its arduous matter to the close)      
Her words resumed, in gesture and in voice      
Resembling one accustom’d to command:      
“Forth 3 from the last corporeal are we come      
Into the Heaven, that is unbodied light;           40   
Light intellectual, replete with love;      
Love of true happiness, replete with joy;      
Joy, that transcends all sweetness of delight.      
Here shalt thou look on either mighty host 4      
Of Paradise; and one in that array,           45   
Which in the final judgment thou shalt see.”      
  As when the lightning, in a sudden spleen      
Unfolded, dashes from the blinding eyes      
The visive spirits, dazzled and bedimm’d;      
So, round about me, fulminating streams           50   
Of living radiance play’d, and left me swathed      
And veiled in dense impenetrable blaze.      
Such weal is in the love, that stills this heaven;      
For its own flame 5 the torch thus fitting ever.      
  No sooner to my listening ear had come           55   
The brief assurance, than I understood      
New virtue into me infused, and sight      
Kindled afresh, with vigour to sustain      
Excess of light however pure. I look’d;      
And, in the likeness of a river, saw           60   
Light flowing, from whose amber-seeming waves      
Flash’d up effulgence, as they glided on      
’Twixt banks, on either side, painted with spring,      
Incredible how fair: and, from the tide,      
There ever and anon, outstarting, flew           65   
Sparkles instinct with life; and in the flowers      
Did set them, like to rubies, chased in gold:      
Then, as if drunk with odours, plunged again      
Into the wondrous flood; from which, as one      
Re-enter’d, still another rose. “The thirst           70   
Of knowledge high, whereby thou art inflamed,      
To search the meaning of what here thou seest,      
The more it warms thee, pleases me the more,      
But first behoves thee of this water drink,      
Or e’er that longing be allay’d.” So spake           75   
The day-star of mine eyes: then thus subjoin’d:      
“This stream; and these, forth issuing from its gulf,      
And diving back, a living topaz each;      
With all this laughter on its bloomy shores;      
Are but a preface, shadowy of the truth           80   
They emblem: not that, in themselves, the things      
Are crude; but on thy part is the defect,      
For that thy views not yet aspire so high.”      
  Never did babe, that had outslept his wont,      
Rush, which such eager straining, to the milk,           85   
As I toward the water; bending me,      
To make the better mirrors of mine eyes      
In the refining wave: and as the eaves      
Of mine eyelids did drink of it, forthwith      
Seem’d it unto me turn’d from length to round.           90   
Then as a troop of maskers, when they put      
Their vizors off, look other than before;      
The counterfeited semblance thrown aside:      
So into greater jubilee were changed      
Those flowers and sparkles; and distinct I saw,           95   
Before me, either court of Heaven display’d.      
  O prime enlightener! thou who gavest me strength      
On the high triumph of Thy realm to gaze;      
Grant virtue not to utter what I kenn’d.      
  There is in Heaven a light, whose goodly shine           100   
Makes the Creator visible to all      
Created, that in seeing Him alone      
Have peace; and in a circle spreads so far,      
That the circumference were too loose a zone      
To girdle in the sun. All is one beam,           105   
Reflected from the summit of the first,      
That moves, which being hence and vigour takes.      
And as some cliff, that from the bottom eyes      
His image mirror’d in the crystal flood,      
As if to admire his brave apparelling           110   
Of verdure and of flowers; so, round about,      
Eying the light, on more than million thrones,      
Stood, eminent, whatever from our earth      
Has to the skies return’d. How wide the leaves,      
Extended to their utmost, of this rose,           115   
Whose lowest step embosoms such a space      
Of ample radiance! Yet, nor amplitude      
Nor height impeded, but my view with ease      
Took in the full dimensions of that joy.      
Near or remote, what there avails, where God           120   
Immediate rules, and Nature, awed, suspends      
Her sway? Into the yellow of the rose      
Perennial, which, in bright expansiveness,      
Lays forth its gradual blooming, redolent      
Of praises to the never-wintering sun,           125   
As one, who fain would speak yet holds his peace,      
Beatrice led me; and, “Behold,” she said,      
“This fair assemblage; stoles of snowy white,      
How numberless. The city, where we dwell,      
Behold how vast; and these our seats so throng’d,           130   
Few now are wanting here. In that proud stall,      
On which, the crown, already o’er its state      
Suspended, holds thine eyes—or e’er thyself      
Mayst at the wedding sup—shall rest the soul      
Of the great Harry, 6 he who, by the world           135   
Augustus hail’d, to Italy must come,      
Before her day be ripe. But ye are sick,      
And in your tetchy wantonness as blind,      
As is the bantling, that of hunger dies,      
And drives away the nurse. Nor may it be,           140   
That he, 7 who in the sacred forum sways,      
Openly or in secret, shall with him      
Accordant walk: whom God will not endure      
I’ the holy office long; but thrust him down      
To Simon Magus, where Alagna’s priest 8           145   
Will sink beneath him: such will be his meed.”      
    
Note 1. He compares the vanishing of the vision to the fading away of the stars at dawn, when it is noonday 6,000 miles off, and the shadow, formed by the earth over the part of it inhabited by the Poet, is about to disappear. [back]   
Note 2. “Appearing to be encompassed by these angelic bands, which are in reality encompassed by it.” [back]   
Note 3. From the ninth sphere to the empyrean, which is mere light. [back]   
Note 4. Of Angels, that remained faithful, and of beatified souls; the latter in the form they will have at the last day. [back]   
Note 5. Thus disposing the spirits to receive its own beatific light. [back]   
Note 6. “Of the great Harry.” The Emperor Henry VII, who died in 1313. “Henry, Count of Luxemburg, held the imperial power three years, seven months and eighteen days from his first coronation to his death. He was a man wise, and just, and gracious; brave and intrepid in arms; a man of honor and a good catholic; and although by his lineage he was of no great condition, yet he was of a magnanimous heart, much feared and held in awe; and if he had lived longer, would have done the greatest things.” G. Villani. [back]   
Note 7. Clement V. See Canto xxvii. 53. [back]   
Note 8. “Alagna’s priest.” Pope Boniface VIII. Hell, Canto xix. 79.

Canto XXXI   
    
    
ARGUMENT.—The Poet expatiates further on the glorious vision described in the last Canto. On looking round for Beatrice, he finds that she has left him, and that an old man is at his side. This proves to be St. Bernard, who shows him that Beatrice has returned to her throne, and then points out to him the blessedness of the Virgin Mother.   
    
    
IN fashion, as a snow white rose, lay then      
Before my view the saintly multitude, 1      
Which in His own blood Christ espoused. Meanwhile,      
That other host, 2 that soar aloft to gaze      
And celebrate His glory, whom they love,           5   
Hover’d around; and, like a troop of bees,      
Amid the vernal sweets alighting now,      
Now, clustering, where their fragrant labour glows,      
Flew downward to the mighty flower, or rose      
From the redundant petals, streaming back           10   
Unto the steadfast dwelling of their joy,      
Faces had they of flame, and wings of gold:      
The rest was whiter than the driven snow;      
And, as they flitted down into the flower,      
From range to range, fanning their plumy loins,           15   
Whisper’d the peace and ardour, which they won      
From that soft winnowing. Shadow none, the vast      
Interposition of such numerous flight      
Cast, from above, upon the flower, or view      
Obstructed aught. For, through the universe,           20   
Wherever merited, celestial light      
Glides freely, and no obstacle prevents.      
  All there, who reign in safety and in bliss,      
Ages long past or new, on one sole mark      
Their love and vision fix’d. O trinal beam           25   
Of individual star, that charm’st them thus!      
Vouchsafe one glance to gild our storm below. 3      
  If the grim brood, 4 from Arctic shores that roam’d,      
(Where Helice 5 for ever, as she wheels,      
Sparkles a mother’s fondness on her son),           30   
Stood in mute wonder’ mid the works of Rome,      
When to their view the Lateran arose      
In greatness more than earthly; I, who then      
From human to divine had past, from time      
Unto eternity, and out of Florence           35   
To justice and to truth, how might I chuse      
But marvel too? ’Twixt gladness and amaze,      
In sooth no will had I to utter aught,      
Or hear. And, as a pilgrim, when he rests      
Within the temple of his vow, looks round           40   
In breathless awe, and hopes some time to tell      
Of all its goodly state; e’en so mine eyes      
Coursed up and down along the living light,      
Now low, and now aloft, and now around,      
Visiting every step. Looks I beheld,           45   
Where charity in soft persuasion sat;      
Smiles from within, and radiance from above;      
And, in each gesture, grace and honour high.      
  So roved my ken, and in its general form      
All Paradise survey’d: when round I turn’d           50   
With purpose of my lady to inquire      
Once more of things, that held my thought suspense.      
But answer found from other than I ween’d;      
For, Beatrice, when I thought to see,      
I saw instead a senior, at my side,           55   
Robed, as the rest, in glory. Joy benign      
Glow’d in his eye, and o’er his cheek diffused,      
With gestures such as spake a father’s love.      
And, “Whither is she vanish’d?” straight I ask’d.      
  “By Beatrice summon’d,” he replied,           60   
“I come to aid thy wish. Looking aloft      
To the third circle from the highest, there      
Behold her on the throne, wherein her merit      
Hath placed her.” Answering not, mine eyes I raised,      
And saw her, where aloof she sat, her brow           65   
A wreath reflecting of eternal beams.      
Not from the centre of the sea so far      
Unto the region of the highest thunder,      
As was my ken from hers; and yet the form      
Came through that medium down, unmix’d and pure.           70   
  “O Lady! thou in whom my hopes have rest;      
Who, for my safety, hast not scorn’d, in Hell      
To leave the traces of thy footsteps mark’d;      
for all mine eyes have seen, I to thy power      
And goodness, virtue owe and grace. Of slave           75   
Thou hast to freedom brought me: and no means,      
For my deliverance apt, hast left untried.      
Thy liberal bounty still toward me keep:      
That, when my spirit, which thou madest whole,      
Is loosen’d from this body, it may find           80   
Favour with thee.” So I my suit preferr’d:      
And she, so distant, as appear’d, look’d down,      
And smiled; then toward the eternal fountain turn’d.      
  And thus the senior, holy and revered:      
“That thou at length mayst happily conclude           85   
Thy voyage, (to which end I was despatch’d,      
By supplication moved and holy love),      
Let thy upsoaring vision range, at large,      
This garden through: for so, by ray divine      
Kindled, thy ken a higher flight shall mount;           90   
And from Heaven’s Queen, whom fervent I adore,      
All gracious aid befriend us; for that I      
Am her own faithful Bernard.” 6 Like a wight,      
Who haply from Croatia wends to see      
Our Veronica, 7 and, the while ’tis shown,           95   
Hangs over it with never-sated gaze,      
And, all that he hath heard revolving, saith      
Unto himself in thought: “And didst Thou look      
E’en thus, O Jesus, my true Lord and God?      
And was this semblance Thine?” So gazed I then           100   
Adoring; for the charity of him, 8      
Who musing, in this world that peace enjoy’d,      
Stood livelily before me. “Child of grace!”      
Thus he began: “Thou shalt not knowledge gain      
Of this glad being, if thine eyes are held           105   
Still in this depth below. But search around      
The circles, to the furthest, till thou spy      
Seated in state, the Queen 9 that of this realm      
Is sovran.” Straight mine eyes I raised; and bright,      
As, at the birth of morn, the eastern clime           110   
Above the horizon, where the sun declines;      
So to mine eyes, that upward, as from vale      
To mountain sped, at the extreme bound, a part      
Excell’d in lustre all the front opposed.      
And as the glow burns ruddiest o’er the wave,           115   
That waits the ascending team, which Phaëton      
Ill knew to guide, and on each part the light      
Diminish’d fades, intensest in the midst;      
So burn’d the peaceful oriflame, and slack’d      
On every side the living flame decay’d.           120   
And in that midst their sportive pennons waved      
Thousands of Angels; in resplendence each      
Distinct, and quaint adornment. At their glee      
And carol, smiled the Lovely One of Heaven,      
That joy was in the eyes of all the blest.           125   
  Had I a tongue in eloquence as rich,      
As is the colouring in fancy’s loom,      
’Twere all too poor to utter the least part      
Of that enchantment. When he saw mine eyes      
Intent on her, that charm’d him; Bernard gazed           130   
With so exceeding fondness, as infused      
Ardour into my breast, unfelt before.      
    
Note 1. Human souls, advanced to this state of glory through the mediation of Christ. [back]   
Note 2. “That other host.” The Angels. [back]   
Note 3. To guide us through the dangers of this tempestuous life. [back]   
Note 4. “If the grim brood.” The northern hordes who invaded Rome. [back]   
Note 5. “Helice.” Callistro, and her son Arcas, changed into the constellation of the Greater Bear and Arctophylax, or Boötes. [back]   
Note 6. “Bernard.” St. Bernard, the venerable Abbot of Clairvaux, and the great promoter of the Second Crusade, who died A. D. 1153, in his sixty-third year. He has been termed the last of the fathers of the Church. That the part he acts in the present poem should be assigned to him, appears somewhat remarkable, when we consider that he severely censured the new festival established in honor of the Immaculate Conception of the Virgin, and “opposed the doctrine itself with the greatest vigor, as it supposed her being honored with a privilege which belonged to Christ alone.” [back]   
Note 7. A copy in miniature of the picture of Christ, which is supposed to have been miraculously imprinted upon a handkerchief preserved in the church of St. Peter at Rome. [back]   
Note 8. “Him.” St. Bernard. [back]   
Note 9. “The queen.” The Virgin Mary.