Classic Poem

CANTO X.

Argument.

The Sun, the fourth heavenly sphere, where dwell the Teachers of the Church. — Discourse of St. Thomas Aquinas.

G AZING upon his Son with love divine,
Breath'd forth by each from all eternity,
He who in light ineffable doth shine,
The Primal Being, far as ye may see
With eye or mind, made all things in such wise
That, looking on his works, it cannot be
Ye taste not of him. Reader, lift thine eyes
Unto the spheres with me, towards that part
Wherein one line across another lies;
And there delight thee in the wondrous art
Of Him, who loves his work so well, that ne'er
From gazing on it doth his eye depart
See how the oblique circle, which doth bear
The planets, bends from thence, to satisfy
The world which calleth for them. And if there
That pathway in a line uncurved did lie,
Much virtue were in vain within each star,
And almost every power of earth should die:
And if from the straight path they bent less far,
Or more, in much their influence must wane,
And greatly thus the mundane order mar,
Now, pray thee, reader, on thy seat remain,
And think of what to thee in part is shown,
If thou, ere weary, gladness wouldst obtain.
I point the pathway; thou must go alone:
The matter upon which I now do write
Demands that all my care therein be thrown.
The greatest minister of Nature's light,
Which seals the earth with the great power of heaven,
And measures time by its resplendence bright,
With this same part conjoin'd, whereof I even
But now did speak, the spiral pathway went,
Wherein it earlier unto us is given.
And I was with it; but of that ascent
I know not, saving as a man is 'ware
Of thought, ere yet it with his mind is blent
Sooth, it was Beatrice who me did bear
From good to better, with such sudden flight,
It seemid time had in the act no share.
With what a clear and self-apparent light
The souls who dwell within the Sun must shine,
Not seen by colour, but by radiance bright!
Though art, and skill, and genius all were mine,
I might not tell what Fancy ne'er can show;
But yet may'st thou believe; and with thy eyne
Long to behold it. And if all too low
Our fantasies, such wondrous height to scale,
It is not strange; for never eye might go
Above the Sun. Within its orb doth dwell
The spirits, fourth among the armies blest,
Children of God, who aye contents them well,
And ever unto them makes manifest
The myst'ry of His Spirit and His Son.
" Give thanks, give thanks, as it is meet and just "
(Thus Beatrice once more to me began)
" Unto the Sun of angels, who to this
Of sense hath raised thee by his grace alone. "
No mortal heart was e'er so prompt, I wis,
To give itself devoutly unto Him,
With longing ardour and deep joyfulness,
As I, at these her words; and now did seem
My love so wholly turn'd to God, that e'en
O'er Beatrice there fell oblivion dim:
Nor did it grieve her; but the smiling sheen
Within her eyes, shed forth such radiant might,
That my united mind was soon, I ween,
Divided. Now full many a dazzling light
Made us their centre, and themselves a crown,
More sweet in voice than in their semblance bright,
And in victorious life before me shone;
Even as Latona's daughter, when the air
Retains the thread whereof she weaves her zone.
The court of heaven from whence I come doth wear
Joys, which ye cannot paint beyond its shore,
Because they are so precious and so fair;
Such was the song those radiant spirits bore:
He who his pinion spreads not for high flight,
This tale let him await for evermore,
From silent lips. And then those planets bright,
Still ever singing, circled round us thrice,
As, near to the firm poles, each starry light.
They seem'd as maidens, who, in the device
Of some gay dance, do in their place remain,
And, silent, wait the music's new advice.
Then, within one of them these words were sain:
" Lo! since the ray of grace, which lights true love,
And, loving, ever doth increase again
Still multiplied, thus guides thy steps above,
And by its splendour leads to heights divine,
Whence none descend, save once again to prove
The upward path, he who denies the wine,
From out his phial, to thy thirst, is free
Only as water which doth aye incline
Downwards, yet may not flow unto the sea.
Now wouldst thou I this garland's flowers should tell,
Which circles round the fairest Dame, who thee
Of Heaven makes worthy. I on earth did dwell
Among the sheep whom Dominick doth lead,
The flock where he who strays not, fattens well.
He who on my right hand doth nearest speed,
My brother and my master was; and he
Is Albert of Cologne, and I, indeed,
Thomas Aquinas. But if thou wouldst be
Of others certified, now let thine eyes
Along the blessid garland heedfully
Follow my words. Yon other flame doth rise
From Gratian's smile, who did both forums aid
So well, that he gives joy in Paradise
He who upon our choir such bloom doth shed,
That Peter was, who with the widow poor,
Within the Holy Church his treasure laid.
The fifth, who hath of light the fairest store,
Breathes with such love, that all the earth would fain
Know where his spirit dwells for evermore.
Within, is the deep mind which erst did gain
Such wondrous wisdom, that, if truth be true,
No second to such knowledge may attain
Anear, behold the light which doth imbue
The soul of him who, in his flesh the while,
The life of angel-ministrants best knew.
And, in yon lesser radiance there doth smile
The Advocate of Christian times, from whom
Augustine drew the subject of his style.
Now, if from light to light thou wilt resume
Thy quest, in mind still following my praise,
With longing, to the eighth thou shalt have come.
Rejoicing in full insight, mid those rays
Dwells the pure soul who erst made manifest
To heedful ears, the world's fallacious ways.
The body whence it was so rudely cast,
Lies in Cieldauro: he from sorrow's path,
And exile, came unto this land of rest.
Yet further, look upon the burning breath
Of Isidore, of Bede, and Richard, he
Whose mind a more than human greatness hath.
Yon flame, from whence thy looks return to me,
Shines from a spirit who, in gravest thought,
Deem'd that the day of death came tardily.
It with the everlasting light is fraught
Of Sigier; who, in the Street named of Straw,
Words true, but oft unpalatable, taught. "
Then, as a clock which us the hour doth show,
What time the Bride of God doth rise to sing
Unto her Spouse, since love is all her law;
And one part draws another, till they ring
Their tinkling chimes with such melodious sound,
That unto pious hearts deep love they bring:
Thus I beheld the glorious wheel go round,
And render voice for voice in sweetest lay,
So musical, the like may ne'er be found,
Save only in the land where gladness lasts for aye.