Classic Poem

After we pass'd the threshold of the gate,
The which our souls, from love of ill, disuse,
The ill that makes the crooked way seem straight,
Sounding with heavy clang I heard it close:
Had I a backward glance toward it thrown,
What for my error had been fit excuse?
Now we ascended through the fissured stone,
That fled and then advanced, on either part,
Like ocean billows, ever and anon.
" In truth, we somewhat here have need of art, "
My guide began, " as through this cleft we go,
And now the walls jut forth, and now dispart. "
And thus we in our journey were so slow,
That, sinking once again unto its rest,
The darken'd border of the moon was low,
Ere through this needle's eye our steps had pass'd.
But when we, freed, throughout its toils had gone,
And issued to the open plain at last,
I being weary, and the way unknown
By either, there we rested, in a place
Than pathway through the wilderness more lone.
Here from its edge that borders empty space
Unto the rock ascending still on high,
The human body thrice its length might trace.
Far as my mortal sight had power to fly,
Now gazing to the left, and now to right,
The cornice seem'd the same unto mine eye.
Not yet our footsteps had essay'd the height,
And, as toward the rocky wall I turn'd,
I saw that of the purest marble white
It was: with loveliest sculptures all adorn'd;
So fair, they Polycletus put to shame,
And, by their side, e'en Nature's self were scorn'd.
The angel who unto Judea came,
Bearing the message of long wept-for peace,
And oped the gate erst kept by swords of flame;
Upon that rock for aye he did not cease
Sculptur'd to stand in attitude so fair,
He seem'd no silent image. To increase
The marvel, it appear'd as if he there
Said " Ave; " for anear him was pourtray'd
She who the key of heavenly love did bear.
And in her act it seem'd as though she said:
" Behold the handmaid of the Lord! " as plain
As impress of a seal on wax is made.
" Do not thy mind entirely thus retain
Within one spot, " then said my gentle guide,
Who near to me his steps did still detain.
Thereat I turn'd my glance; and by the side
Of Mary's image, nigh to him who even
But now to rouse my 'mazid thoughts had tried,
Another hist'ry in the rock was graven:
Wherefore I pass'd by Virgil, and drew near,
That to my sight more plain it might be given.
Depicted there the cart and oxen bear
The Ark of God; that we the dreadful fate
Of those who holy rites usurp should fear.
A crowd was gather'd round, in festal state:
Divided in seven quires, unto mine eyes
They sang; unto my ears did silent wait.
Even in such manner did the incense rise,
Carvid within that fair imagining,
In me one sense said No , another Yes .
Preceding those the holy vase who bring,
The dancers were by the meek Psalmist led,
Who on that day was more and less than king.
And at a palace-window sculpturid
Sat Michal, on the pageant looking down,
As doth a woman scornful and sad.
I moved my steps a little further on,
That I another hist'ry might behold,
Next that of Michal, glittering in the stone.
For in the sculpture was the glory told,
Of him who caus'd St. Gregory to seek
The vict'ry that the gate of Hell unroll'd.
Of the good Emperor Trajan do I speak;
There a poor widow seem'd, with mournful cry,
To grasp his steed, while tears flow'd down her cheek.
Around, a gallant throng doth stand for aye,
Of armid horsemen; and above his head
The golden eagles raise themselves on high.
Among the crowd it seem'd as though she said:
" Avenge me, Sire, avenge me of my woe,
On him who smote my son that he is dead. "
And he appear'd to answer: " Let me go;
Wait thou till I return again. " She cried,
(As one whose grief in hastiness doth show,)
" If thou returnest never? " He replied:
" He who shall reign instead of me will see
Thee righted. " But she said: " Thou put'st aside
Thy duty; and what boots it unto thee
Another's virtue? " " Then be of good cheer, "
He answered; " for thy cause full speedily,
Ere I depart, shall be adjudged: I here,
By justice and by pity am delay'd. "
Now He to whom there never doth appear
That which before was hidden, clearly made
This speech seem visible unto our sight,
New unto us, because not here portray'd.
While on the sculptured meekness with delight
I gazed, because its beauty show'd the trace
Of Him whose mind imagin'd it aright,
" Behold where many come, with tardy pace, "
The Poet whisper'd; " they to us will show
The way to climb unto the highest place. "
My eyes, that wand'ring all around did go,
(Because on each new thing they fain are stay'd,)
To turn again towards him were not slow.
Reader, I would not thou shouldst be afraid
The path of penitential grief to try,
For hearing how God wills the debt be paid.
Think not upon the suff'rings: let thine eye
Rest on the future: for when most severe,
They cannot pass into Eternity.
Thus I began: " My Master, that which here
Advances, seems not human to my gaze;
I know not what, so strange doth it appear. "
And he to me: " The heavy load which weighs
So sore, that they are to the earth opprest,
At first bewilder'd me in dire amaze.
But if thine eyes thou stedfastly dost rest
On them who thus those pond'rous stones endure,
Thou see'st how each one crawls upon his breast. "
O haughty Christians, miserable, poor!
Who in the darken'd vision of your mind,
Deem in the path of ill ye are secure;
Do ye not know we are the insect kind,
Born the angelic butterfly to form,
That flies to justice where no screen ye find?
Why does such swelling pride your souls deform?
Ye are but beings of defective race,
Condemn'd to crawl for ever as a worm!
As, to sustain a cornice in its place,
Ye see a figure who, in crouching low,
Doth almost join his knees unto his face,
So that true sorrow from the feignid woe
Is born within the gazer; thus, when seen
Intently, did to me their semblance show.
And more or less they were bow'd down, I ween,
As they a less or greater burden bore;
But he who had most patience in his mien,
Weeping, appear'd to say, " I can endure no more. "