Classic Poem

Departing from those shades, I strove to hold
Still the same path as did my trusty guide;
When one, with finger pointing, said: " Behold!
What wondrous thing is this? At his left side,
No ray of sunshine on the path is found:
Meseemeth, yet in life he doth abide. "
I turn'd my eyes toward the voice's sound,
And saw them look with wonder and amaze
At me, and at the shadow on the ground.
My Master said: " Why dost thou backward gaze,
With anxious mind, and linger in thy walk?
What matters it to thee, whate'er he says?
Follow thou me, and let the people talk:
Be stedfast as a tower, that doth not bend
Its stately summit to the tempest's shock.
For he is ever further from the end
He aims at, in whose mind thought grows on thought;
For one to crush another aye doth tend. "
Saving " I come, " I could not answer aught:
And as I spake, swift to my cheek there sprang
The hue that shows us fit for pardon sought.
And then came tow'rd us, where the rocks o'erhang,
A band of spirits, moving soft and slow;
And " Miserere , " verse by verse, they sang.
They saw the darkness on the path below,
(Because on me was stay'd the solar flame,)
And changed their song to a long startled " Oh! "
Then unto us, as messengers there came
Two of that band, and thus their speech began:
" Fain would we know, in truth, your state and name. "
And thus my guide made answer: " Now ye can
Return to them who sent you here, and say,
" He whom ye look on is a living man."
If, for his shadow they their footsteps stay,
As I suppose, enough be this reply;
The honour given, he will to them repay. "
No meteor stars did e'er so quickly fly,
At evening hour, across the deep serene,
Or August clouds upon a sunset sky,
As those swift messengers return'd again;
And once again came tow'rd us with the rest,
Fleet, as unbridled horses they had been.
" See, they are many who come on in haste, "
The Poet said; " thee they will beg for grace:
Therefore to listen as we go is best. "
" O soul who journeyest to the blessid place,
With the same limbs which on thy natal day
Thou hadst, a little linger in thy pace, "
Thus they began, " and look on us, we pray;
If thou hast known us tell of us on earth:
Ah! why such haste? Ah! wherefore dost not stay?
We all by violence have been cast forth
From life, and we were sinners till the last;
And then the light of heavenly grace had birth,
And we, forgiving and repentant, pass'd
From life, in peace with God; who gives us now
The pain of longing for our promised rest. "
And I: " Although I look with stedfast brow,
I know you not; but if to you doth please
Aught that I can, O souls redeem'd from woe,
Tell me, and I will do it, by that peace,
Which, following in the footsteps of my guide,
I seek from world to world withouten cease. "
And one began: " In faith we do abide
That thou wouldst aid us, though by oath unbound;
If by no higher power thy will be tied.
And I, who speak before the rest around,
Beseech thee, when the land thou shalt behold
That lies 'twixt Naples and Romagnan ground,
Do not thy gentle courtesy withhold;
But beg of those in Fano that they pray
To free me from the sins that me enfold.
Thence was I; but the wounds whence gush'd away
The blood where I abode, to me were dealt
Within Antenor's land; even where I lay,
Deeming myself most safe: the murd'rous guilt
Be unto him of Este; for his wrath,
More fierce than righteous, hath that life-blood spilt.
But had I taken my flight by Mira's path,
When I my foes at Oriaco met,
Still were I in the land of living breath.
Unto the marsh I fled; and hard beset,
Entangled fell, amid the reeds and mire;
And earth was with my veins' dark river wet. "
Then said another: " As thou dost aspire
To reach the summit of the lofty mount,
Aid me too to fulfil my just desire.
Buonconti, son of Montifeltro's Count,
Am I; by wife and friends am I forgot:
Therefore I ever walk with bended front. "
And I to him: " Now tell me what sad lot,
So far from Campaldino, hath been thine,
That of thy sepulchre man knoweth not. "
He said: " Mid Casentino's groves of pine,
The streamlet Archiano flows amain,
Above the Convent born, in Apennine.
There where its early name becometh vain,
Did I arrive, deep wounded in the throat;
Flying on foot, and 'sanguining the plain.
My eyes grew dim, and my last spoken thought
Was the sweet name of Mary: and I fell;
My corpse alone remain'd upon that spot.
I speak the truth, which thou again must tell:
As I sank down, an angel came from God,
To take me to Himself; and He of Hell
Cried out: " Why dost thou me defraud?
Thou robb'st me only for one little tear:
Thou hast his soul; mine be the lifeless sod."
Thou knowest well how gathers in the air
The humid vapour which descends in rain,
When risen unto a region cold and rare.
The evil Will that ever would attain
To evil, roused the dusky storm-wind's might,
By the dread power his nature doth contain.
And thus the valley, in the fading light
Of eve, was folded in a darksome veil,
From Pratomagno to the furthest height:
So that the heavy air came down in hail,
And rushing water, till the burden'd ground
Gave back the rain in streams; nor did they fail
To join the mountain torrents, which rebound
From rock to rock, toward the royal flood,
So wild, that nought to stay their course is found.
My body, lying in its frozen blood,
The Archiano caught, and swiftly bore
Into the Arno; with its violence rude
Loosing the sign of Holy Cross I wore,
Made on my breast in the last closing strife:
Then with its prey enwrapp'd me o'er and o'er. "
" Ah! when thou shalt return again to life,
And from thy weary journey hast repose, "
Thus spake a third, in tones with sorrow rife,
" See that thou then forget not Pia's woes:
Sienna was my birthplace, and I died
In the Maremma: and this well he knows
Who me, already widow'd, took to be his bride. "