Classic Poem

CANTO IV.

Argument.

The Poet descends into Limbo. — The shades of the great Heathen.

M Y heavy slumber suddenly was broke
By the loud crashing of the thunder's sound;
I started as doth one by force awoke.
Fresh from repose, my eye now look'd around;
On every side I gazed, that I might know
What place it was which closed me in its bound.
I was upon the pathway that doth go
Into the valley of the dread abyss,
Fill'd with the sounds of everlasting woe.
Such black and fearful depth of gloom was this,
When I would fain have gazed adown the steep,
Only the darkness could I see, I wis.
" Now pass we onward to the lower deep, "
The poet thus began, all wan and pale;
" I go the first, thou in my footsteps keep. "
And I replied, who saw his colour fail,
" How can I go into yon darkness drear,
If fear o'er thee, my Comforter, prevail? "
He said: " The anguish that is suffer'd here
Doth pale my cheek with feelings which belong
To pity, not as thou hast thought, to fear.
Now let us go, because the way is long. "
Thus he set forth, and made me enter where
The circles first begin of that dread throng.
We stopp'd to listen to the voices there:
They did not shriek, nor wail, but only sighs
For ever trembled in the eternal air.
The great and mighty multitude that lies
Within the place of sorrow without pain,
From them this sound of sighing doth arise,
From children, and from women, and from men.
" Why dost not ask? " my gentle Master said,
" What spirits now have come within thy ken?
These have not sinn'd; but if good deeds they did,
'Twas not enough; for the baptismal rite
They knew not, the sole gateway of thy creed;
Nor duly worshipp'd God with Nature's light,
Those who have lived in the old heathen time;
And I myself am in this evil plight.
For sins like these, and for no other crime,
We are amongst the lost; our only woe,
To have no hope the blessid Heaven to climb. "
A pang of sorrow through my heart did go
When this I heard; for great and mighty they
Whom pent within this Limbo did I know
" Now say, my Master, now, my leader, say, "
Thus I inquired, that I might understand
The faith which conquers each erroneous way:
" Did ever any come from out this band,
In whom his own or others' merit found
Had power to raise him to the Blessid Land? "
He answer'd: " Newly come unto this bound
Was I, when One All-powerful hither came,
Who with the signs of victory was crown'd.
The shade of our first sire he call'd by name;
Abel and Noah; faithful Abraham;
Moses, the law-giver, of lowly fame;
The king who praised his God in sweetest psalm;
And Israel, with his children and his sire,
And Rachel, for whose sake hard toil was balm;
And many others from this region dire,
And made them blest: but know, until that day,
No human soul to bliss might e'er aspire. "
Although we spoke, our steps we did not stay,
But still were passing onward through the wood,
The wood wherein those mournful spirits lay;
And from the summit now not far we stood,
When I perceived a clear and shining light,
That conquer'd all the hemisphere of cloud.
A little distant from its radiance bright
Were we, but now I could discern in part
What great and mighty ones possess'd its site.
" Thou who giv'st praise to knowledge and to art,
Who are those souls that here such honour claim,
Which from the common herd doth them dispart? "
And he to me: " Their venerable fame,
Resounding still on earth, o'er them doth shed
Such grace, that to this painless place they came. "
And as we went, I heard a voice which said:
" Honour the poet of the lofty lay;
His Shade returns again from whence it sped. "
The voice was silent which these words did say:
I saw four Mighty Ones toward us come;
They had a semblance neither sad nor gay.
Then the good Master did his speech resume:
" Now look, for he who cometh, sword in hand,
As power above the rest he did assume,
Is Homer, sovereign of the poet-land;
The next is Horace, of satiric fame;
Then Ovid; Lucan, latest of that band.
To sound the praises of the lofty name
Of poet, do their voices all agree;
And well they honour me in that high theme. "
And thus the great disciples did I see
Of him, the lord of the melodious song
Which soars, as doth the eagle, haughtily.
And, as they came, awhile they talk'd among
Themselves; then turn'd to me with gesture sweet:
My master smiled, as still they pass'd along.
And me with yet more honour did they greet;
For I, a sixth among the band of light,
Was welcomed by them all with rev'rence meet.
Thus we went on unto the radiance bright,
Discoursing what 'tis well that now I should
Keep silent, even as there to speak was right.;
We went to where a noble castle stood;
Seven lofty walls encircled it around,
Defended by a beauteous streamlet's flood,
Which now we cross'd as if 'twere solid ground;
And with those sages, through seven gates did go:
Then we a meadow of fresh verdure found.
The dwellers there had glances grave and slow,
And great authority was in their mien;
Rarely they spake, with voices soft and low.
We bent our steps upon th' enamell'd green,
Toward a place of clear and shining light,
So that from thence could all around be seen.
And on a spot of verdure fresh and bright,
I saw the great ones who from earth have gone;
Still I rejoice at memory of that sight.
I saw Electra in a mingled throng,
And Hector and Eneas I descried,
And Caesar arm'd, whose eyes as eagles' shone.
And there, beyond, I saw Camilla 'bide;
Penthesilea, and the Latin king,
Who, with his child Lavinia, sat in pride.
Brutus, who from his throne did Tarquin fling;
Cornelia, Julia, Marcia, and Lucrece;
And by himself alone, great Saladin.
Then, as with eager eye I did not cease
To look, I saw the king of those who know,
Sitting among the mighty minds of Greece.
All gazed on him, all bent before him low;
And Plato there, and Socrates I saw,
More near to him than other Shades might go.
Democritus, who taught that chance was law;
There Heraclitus sad and Zeno were,
And on wise Thales did I look with awe.
Empedocles I saw in that still air;
The Cynic; Anaxagoras, the good.
Dioscorides, and Orpheus too, were there.
Livy and Cicero; Seneca, whose blood,
Soft-flowing, bore him from the tyrant's rage;
And there Hippocrates and Galen stood;
Euclid, in geometric science sage,
And Avicenna, Ptolemy the Great,
And Averrhois, famed for learnid page.
All whom I saw I cannot now relate;
Because so long already is my strain,
It is too weak for what I would narrate.
The six have 'minished unto two again;
My Master leads me, by another way,
Into the trembling air from that still plain;
Now we are in a land where shines no light of day.