Classic Poem

The darkest cave within the place of doom,
In the blank dimness of its starless night,
Howe'er surcharged with clouds of deepest gloom,
Shed never such a veil before my sight,
As the foul smoke which o'er this bourne did lie,
Most harsh and biting to the sense; nor might
The pilgrim journey with unclosid eye:
Wherefore my faithful escort to my side
Drew near, that I his strong support might try.
Even as the blind man goes behind his guide,
That from the rightful path he may not stray,
Nor rush where pain or peril doth betide,
So through the filthy air I took my way;
And still gave heed unto my Master's speech,
Who " See thou dost not leave me " did but say.
Then I heard voices in the gloom, and each,
That all their sins be wash'd away in peace,
The Lamb of God for mercy did beseech.
Thus Agnus Dei they sang, and did not cease:
One word resounded through the dismal air,
In one full unison. I said: " Are these
The sounds of spirit-voices that I hear,
My Master? " And he thus to me replied:
" Yea; and of wrath the punishment they bear. "
" Now who art thou who dost the smoke divide,
And speak'st as though thou wert of those who still
Count time by Calends? " This, anear my side
Was spoken. Then my Master said: " Fulfil
The thing of which he asks thee; and demand
If by this path we may ascend the hill. "
And I: " O thou, who for the Blessid Land
Dost cleanse thee here from every earthly stain,
Thou shalt hear wonders if with me thou'lt wend. "
He answer'd: " Far as may be, I would fain
Go with thee; though the smoke wherein we dwell
Hinder our sight, yet hearing doth remain. "
Then I began: " The garb, which at the knell
Of death shall pass away, still wraps me round,
And I came hither through the gates of hell.
Since God in His great mercy me hath bound,
And would in such a wise His courts display
As, since the days of yore, no man hath found,
Then hide not who thou wert ere death; and say
If by this path I may attain my aim:
Thus shall thy answer guide us on our way. "
" I was a Lombard; Marco was my name;
Deep-versed in worldly wisdom, and the love
Of virtue, which hath now so poor a fame.
To climb the hill thy footsteps rightly move. "
Thus he replied; and added: " I implore
Thy prayers for me in Paradise above. "
And I to him: " I swear that on its shore
I will fulfil thy wishes; yet a doubt
From my full heart in speech must needs run o'er.
First, it was single; then again burst out
Redoubled by thy words, that show the truth,
Here and elsewhere, of this which now my thought
Compares with thy discourse. The world, in sooth,
Is, as thou say'st, a waste where dwells no worth,
And fill'd and clothed with malice without ruth.
I pray, thou wouldst the cause thereof show forth,
That I may see it and recount it plain;
For one, in heaven, another on the earth
Doth place it. " Then he sigh'd a sigh of pain,
And to my question thus did he reply:
" The world is blind, my brother; in its train
Thou followest; and wouldst to Heaven on high
Ascribe the causes of each earthly thing,
As though controll'd by fixed necessity.
If it were so, within your heart the spring
Of free-will were destroy'd; nor were it right
That good should joy, and evil, sorrow bring.
The planets rule each impulse with their might;
But yet not all: and were it so, indeed,
To choose 'twixt good and evil ye have light,
And free volition; which, although it bleed,
In the first battles with the starry sphere,
Yet wins, if undismay'd, a glorious meed.
Unto a higher nature bear ye here
Allegiance; He within you doth create
The mind which need no star malignant fear.
Thus, if the world now lies in sad estate,
In your own hearts the reason must be sought;
As now to thee I truly will narrate.
The soul comes forth, unskill'd, unknowing aught,
From Him who look'd on it in love, before
He call'd it forth to being, out of nought:
Most like a child at play upon the shore,
Weeping and laughing at each idle toy,
Simple and ignorant of any lore;
Save that, descended from the fount of joy,
In all things he is fain to find delight.
Deceived, he runs to that which would destroy,
If by no bridle he be train'd aright;
And thus the law must curb him, that he still
The towers of the true city keep in sight.
Sooth, there are laws: but who doth them fulfil?
No one; your chief the hoof doth not divide,
Though verily he ruminates at will.
And thus the people, who perceive their guide
Aim at the self-same goods for which they long,
Feed upon those, and seek not aught beside.
Well mayst thou see that, because guided wrong,
The earth is thus unto all evil hurl'd;
Not from the sins which to your race belong.
In Rome, where erst the flag of truth unfurl'd,
There were two Suns; that, in the days of old,
Shone on the paths of God and of the world.
Now, one to quench the other hath been bold;
And the same hand the sword and crozier wears:
Thus, needs, it ill hath fared within the fold.
The twain, combined, have each of each no fears:
If thou believ'st not, mark the blossom well;
For every tree is known by what it bears.
Once truth and courtesy were wont to dwell
There where the Po and Adigi do flow,
Ere Frederick into strife and discord fell.
Now, there securely every wight may go,
Who, since some cause of shame on him hath come,
The face of righteous men no more may know.
'Tis true, that in three ancient men are some
Remains of the old virtue; and to them
The time seems long till God shall call them home:
Gherard the Good; Conrad Palazzo; him,
Best call'd, in French, true Lombard; but whom ye,
Besides, do Guido da Castello name.
I tell thee, that the Church of Rome thou'lt see
(Because it joins two diverse rules in one)
Dragg'd through the mud, and both all filthy be. "
" Well hast thou said, O Marco, " I began;
" And now I plainly see the cause for which
The sons of Levi heritage had none.
But who is that Gherardo whom thy speech
Proclaims a remnant of the glorious dead,
Whose virtues to this wicked age still preach? "
He said: " Thy words have proved me or misled,
If thou the good Gherardo dost not know;
And yet in Tuscan tongue thy words are said.
For by no other surname doth he go,
If from his daughter Gaia be not drawn
Some appellation. Now farewell; for lo!
Through the thick smoke is whitening the dawn,
In silver light: I must depart, before
There comes the guardian angel of the zone. "
He turn'd away, and to my words gave ear no more.