OPT have I seen at some cathodial door A labourer, pausing in the dust and heat, Lay down his burden, and with reverent fe Enter, and cross himself, and on the floor Kneel to repeat his paternoster o'er; Far off the noises of the world retreat; So, as I enter here from day to day, And leave my burden at this minster gate, The tumult of the time disconsolate To inarticulate murmurs dies away, While the eternal ages watch and wait. INFERNO. CANTO I. MIDWAY upon the journey of our life I found myself within a forest dark, For the straightforward pathway had been lost. What was this forest savage, rough, and stern, But of the good to treat, which there I found, So full was I of slumber at the moment At that point where the valley terminated, That in my heart's lake had endured throughout After my weary body I had rested, The way resumed I on the desert slope, 15 And lo! almost where the ascent began, A panther light and swift exceedingly, And up the sun was mounting with those stars But not so much, that did not give me fear With head uplifted, and with ravenous hunger, Seemed to be laden in her meagreness, And many folk has caused to live forlorn! She brought upon me so much heaviness, With the affright that from her aspect came, And the time comes that causes him to lose, Which, coming on against me by degrees "Have pity on me," unto him I cried, And lived at Rome under the good Augustus, A poet was I, and I sang that just Son of Anchises, who came forth from Troy, 40 45 But thou, why goest thou back to such annoyance ? Which spreads abroad so wide a river of speech ? " Avail me the long study and great love Thou art alone the one from whom I took Do thou protect me from her, famous Sage, Responded he, when he beheld me weeping, "If from this savage place thou wouldst escape; Because this beast, at which thou criest out, Suffers not any one to pass her way, But so doth harass him, that she destroys him; And has a nature so malign and ruthless, That never doth she glut her greedy will, Many the animals with whom she weds, And more they shall be still, until the Greyhound He shall not feed on either earth or pelf, But upon wisdom, and on love and virtue ; Of that low Italy shall he be the saviour, On whose account the maid Camilla died, Euryalus, Turnus, Nisus, of their wounds; Through every city shall he hunt her down, Until he shall have driven her back to Hell, Thou follow me, and I will be thy guide, Within the fire, because they hope to come. |