With light supplies them in as many modes,
As there are splendours that it shines on each According to the virtue it conceives,
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."
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.
OON'S fervid hour perchance six thousand miles1
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. 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 The triumph, which plays ever round the point, That overcame me, seeming (for it did) Engirt by that it girdeth. Wherefore love, With loss of other object, forced me bend Mine eyes on Beatrice once again.
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,
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.
2 Appearing to be encompassed by these angelic bands, which are in reality encompassed by it.
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, 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 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 Urging its arduous matter to the close,) Her words resumed, in gesture and in voice Resembling one accustom'd to command:
Forth from the last corporeal are we come Into the Heaven, that is unbodied light; 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 Of Paradise; and one in that array, 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 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 the torch thus fitting ever.
No sooner to my listening ear had come The brief assurance, than I understood New virtue into me infused, and sight
From the ninth sphere to the Empyrean, which is mere light.
Of Angels, that remained faithful, and of beatified souls; the lat
ter in the form they will have at the last day.
5 Thus disposing the spirits to receive its own beatific light.
Kindled afresh, with vigour to sustain Excess of light however pure. I look'd; And, in the likeness of a river, saw
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 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 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 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
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, with such eager straining, to the milk, 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. 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, 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 now to utter what I kenn'd.
There is in Heaven a light, whose goodly shine 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, 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
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, 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 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,
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, 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," he who, by the world
6" Of the great Harry." The Emperor Henry VII, who died in
1313. Henry, Count of Luxemburg, held the imperial power three years
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, That he, 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
Will sink beneath him: such will be his meed."
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.
N 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, that soar aloft to gaze
And celebrate His glory, whom they love, 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 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,
seven months and eighteen days from his first coronation to his death. He was a man wise and just and gracious; brave 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.
7 Clement V. See Canto xxvii. 53. 8" Alagna's priest." Pope Boniface VIII. Hell," Canto xix.
1 Human souls advanced to this state of glory through the mediation of Christ.
2"That other host." The Angels.
« PreviousContinue » |