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The visual spirits, so that it deprives

       The eye of impress from the strongest objects,

      Thus round about me flashed a living light,

       And left me swathed around with such a veil

       Of its effulgence, that I nothing saw.

      "Ever the Love which quieteth this heaven

       Welcomes into itself with such salute,

       To make the candle ready for its flame."

      No sooner had within me these brief words

       An entrance found, than I perceived myself

       To be uplifted over my own power,

      And I with vision new rekindled me,

       Such that no light whatever is so pure

       But that mine eyes were fortified against it.

      And light I saw in fashion of a river

       Fulvid with its effulgence, 'twixt two banks

       Depicted with an admirable Spring.

      Out of this river issued living sparks,

       And on all sides sank down into the flowers,

       Like unto rubies that are set in gold;

      And then, as if inebriate with the odours,

       They plunged again into the wondrous torrent,

       And as one entered issued forth another.

      "The high desire, that now inflames and moves thee

       To have intelligence of what thou seest,

       Pleaseth me all the more, the more it swells.

      But of this water it behoves thee drink

       Before so great a thirst in thee be slaked."

       Thus said to me the sunshine of mine eyes;

      And added: "The river and the topazes

       Going in and out, and the laughing of the herbage,

       Are of their truth foreshadowing prefaces;

      Not that these things are difficult in themselves,

       But the deficiency is on thy side,

       For yet thou hast not vision so exalted."

      There is no babe that leaps so suddenly

       With face towards the milk, if he awake

       Much later than his usual custom is,

      As I did, that I might make better mirrors

       Still of mine eyes, down stooping to the wave

       Which flows that we therein be better made.

      And even as the penthouse of mine eyelids

       Drank of it, it forthwith appeared to me

       Out of its length to be transformed to round.

      Then as a folk who have been under masks

       Seem other than before, if they divest

       The semblance not their own they disappeared in,

      Thus into greater pomp were changed for me

       The flowerets and the sparks, so that I saw

       Both of the Courts of Heaven made manifest.

      O splendour of God! by means of which I saw

       The lofty triumph of the realm veracious,

       Give me the power to say how it I saw!

      There is a light above, which visible

       Makes the Creator unto every creature,

       Who only in beholding Him has peace,

      And it expands itself in circular form

       To such extent, that its circumference

       Would be too large a girdle for the sun.

      The semblance of it is all made of rays

       Reflected from the top of Primal Motion,

       Which takes therefrom vitality and power.

      And as a hill in water at its base

       Mirrors itself, as if to see its beauty

       When affluent most in verdure and in flowers,

      So, ranged aloft all round about the light,

       Mirrored I saw in more ranks than a thousand

       All who above there have from us returned.

      And if the lowest row collect within it

       So great a light, how vast the amplitude

       Is of this Rose in its extremest leaves!

      My vision in the vastness and the height

       Lost not itself, but comprehended all

       The quantity and quality of that gladness.

      There near and far nor add nor take away;

       For there where God immediately doth govern,

       The natural law in naught is relevant.

      Into the yellow of the Rose Eternal

       That spreads, and multiplies, and breathes an odour

       Of praise unto the ever-vernal Sun,

      As one who silent is and fain would speak,

       Me Beatrice drew on, and said: "Behold

       Of the white stoles how vast the convent is!

      Behold how vast the circuit of our city!

       Behold our seats so filled to overflowing,

       That here henceforward are few people wanting!

      On that great throne whereon thine eyes are fixed

       For the crown's sake already placed upon it,

       Before thou suppest at this wedding feast

      Shall sit the soul (that is to be Augustus

       On earth) of noble Henry, who shall come

       To redress Italy ere she be ready.

      Blind covetousness, that casts its spell upon you,

       Has made you like unto the little child,

       Who dies of hunger and drives off the nurse.

      And in the sacred forum then shall be

       A Prefect such, that openly or covert

       On the same road he will not walk with him.

      But long of God he will not be endured

       In holy office; he shall be thrust down

       Where Simon Magus is for his deserts,

      And make him of Alagna lower go!"

      XXXI. The Glory of Paradise. Departure of Beatrice. St. Bernard.

       Table of Contents

      In fashion then as of a snow-white rose

       Displayed itself to me the saintly host,

       Whom Christ in his own blood had made his bride,

      But the other host, that flying sees and sings

       The glory of Him who doth enamour it,

       And the goodness that created it so noble,

      Even as a swarm of bees, that sinks in flowers

       One moment, and the next returns again

       To where its labour is to sweetness turned,

      Sank into the great flower, that is adorned

      

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