The Battle of Darkness and Light - Джон Мильтон

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through thirst of martyrdom,

       In the proud presence of the Sultan preached

       Christ and the others who came after him,

      And, finding for conversion too unripe

       The folk, and not to tarry there in vain,

       Returned to fruit of the Italic grass,

      On the rude rock 'twixt Tiber and the Arno

       From Christ did he receive the final seal,

       Which during two whole years his members bore.

      When He, who chose him unto so much good,

       Was pleased to draw him up to the reward

       That he had merited by being lowly,

      Unto his friars, as to the rightful heirs,

       His most dear Lady did he recommend,

       And bade that they should love her faithfully;

      And from her bosom the illustrious soul

       Wished to depart, returning to its realm,

       And for its body wished no other bier.

      Think now what man was he, who was a fit

       Companion over the high seas to keep

       The bark of Peter to its proper bearings.

      And this man was our Patriarch; hence whoever

       Doth follow him as he commands can see

       That he is laden with good merchandise.

      But for new pasturage his flock has grown

       So greedy, that it is impossible

       They be not scattered over fields diverse;

      And in proportion as his sheep remote

       And vagabond go farther off from him,

       More void of milk return they to the fold.

      Verily some there are that fear a hurt,

       And keep close to the shepherd; but so few,

       That little cloth doth furnish forth their hoods.

      Now if my utterance be not indistinct,

       If thine own hearing hath attentive been,

       If thou recall to mind what I have said,

      In part contented shall thy wishes be;

       For thou shalt see the plant that's chipped away,

       And the rebuke that lieth in the words,

      'Where well one fattens, if he strayeth not.'"

      XII. St. Buonaventura recounts the Life of St. Dominic. Lament over the State of the Franciscan Order. The Second Circle.

       Table of Contents

      Soon as the blessed flame had taken up

       The final word to give it utterance,

       Began the holy millstone to revolve,

      And in its gyre had not turned wholly round,

       Before another in a ring enclosed it,

       And motion joined to motion, song to song;

      Song that as greatly doth transcend our Muses,

       Our Sirens, in those dulcet clarions,

       As primal splendour that which is reflected.

      And as are spanned athwart a tender cloud

       Two rainbows parallel and like in colour,

       When Juno to her handmaid gives command,

      (The one without born of the one within,

       Like to the speaking of that vagrant one

       Whom love consumed as doth the sun the vapours,)

      And make the people here, through covenant

       God set with Noah, presageful of the world

       That shall no more be covered with a flood,

      In such wise of those sempiternal roses

       The garlands twain encompassed us about,

       And thus the outer to the inner answered.

      After the dance, and other grand rejoicings,

       Both of the singing, and the flaming forth

       Effulgence with effulgence blithe and tender,

      Together, at once, with one accord had stopped,

       (Even as the eyes, that, as volition moves them,

       Must needs together shut and lift themselves,)

      Out of the heart of one of the new lights

       There came a voice, that needle to the star

       Made me appear in turning thitherward.

      And it began: "The love that makes me fair

       Draws me to speak about the other leader,

       By whom so well is spoken here of mine.

      'Tis right, where one is, to bring in the other,

       That, as they were united in their warfare,

       Together likewise may their glory shine.

      The soldiery of Christ, which it had cost

       So dear to arm again, behind the standard

       Moved slow and doubtful and in numbers few,

      When the Emperor who reigneth evermore

       Provided for the host that was in peril,

       Through grace alone and not that it was worthy;

      And, as was said, he to his Bride brought succour

       With champions twain, at whose deed, at whose word

       The straggling people were together drawn.

      Within that region where the sweet west wind

       Rises to open the new leaves, wherewith

       Europe is seen to clothe herself afresh,

      Not far off from the beating of the waves,

       Behind which in his long career the sun

       Sometimes conceals himself from every man,

      Is situate the fortunate Calahorra,

       Under protection of the mighty shield

       In which the Lion subject is and sovereign.

      Therein was born the amorous paramour

       Of Christian Faith, the athlete consecrate,

       Kind to his own and cruel to his foes;

      And when it was created was his mind

       Replete with such a living energy,

       That in his mother her it made prophetic.

      As soon as the espousals were complete

       Between him and the Faith at holy font,

       Where they with mutual safety dowered each other,

      The woman, who for him had given assent,

       Saw in a dream the admirable fruit

       That issue would from him and from his heirs;

      And that he might be construed as he was,

       A spirit from this place went forth to name him

       With His possessive whose he wholly was.

      Dominic was he called; and him I speak of

       Even as of the husbandman whom Christ

      

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