Classic Poem

CANTO XII.

Argument.

St. Bonaventura relates to Dante the life of St Dominick.
As soon as that blest flame these words had said,
Thus ending his discourse, the holy throng
Round in its whirling measure swiftly sped;
Nor once in circuit had it pass'd along,
Before another did its wreath enclose,
And follow'd, step for step, and song for song;
A song that doth so far excel each muse,
Each Syren of melodious voice, as light
Itself more clear than its reflection glows.
Even so, on a dim cloud do meet thy sight
Two arches parallel, of self-same hue,
When Juno doth command her maiden bright;
As though the outer from the inner grew:
(Most like the words of that fair nymph of yore
Whom love consumed as sunbeams morning dew;)
And thence the dwellers on this mortal shore
Trust to the compact God with Noah made,
That earth by ocean be o'erwhelm'd no more.
Thus round us sped those wreaths engarlanded
Of sempiternal roses; on this wise
The outward to the inward answerid.
Then when the dance, and the sweet harmonies
Of song, and all the splendour of the flame
Where light with light in fairer radiance vies,
Were still'd with one volition, in the same
Moment, as eyelids which, when will desires,
At once do shut and open: thus there came
From out the heart of one of these new fires
A voice that me towards itself did bear,
As needle to the polar star aspires.
Thus it began: " The love which makes me fair
Doth lead me of that other guide to tell,
Whose scholar did but now the praise declare
Of mine. Where one is treated of, 'tis well
The other's history to relate; for both
Fought in one cause, and thus their fame should dwell
Resplendent in like glory. When, in sooth,
The Saviour's hosts, which cost so dear once more
To arm, moved on with steps of tardy sloth,
The eternal Sovereign swiftly succour bore,
Not for their merit, but by grace alone,
Unto his armies in their peril sore;
And to his Spouse gave aid, as I have shown,
By two, renown'd in word and deed, to whom
They might return who far astray had gone.
Within the land whence Zephyrus doth come,
And ope with gentle touch the soft green leaves,
That shed o'er Europe springtide's fresher bloom,
Anear the dashing of the ocean-waves,
Behind which, when the day most ling'ring dies,
The sun of its bright beam our sight bereaves,
The favour'd Callaroga doth arise,
'Neath the protection of the mighty shield,
Where ruling now, now ruled, the lion lies:
There was his birthplace who so well did wield
The weapons of the Christian faith and cause,
The holy athlete, all whose life reveal'd
Love to his flock, and strength against his foes;
He who with living power was so replete,
That, yet unborn, his prophecies arose.
When at the sacred font they did complete
The sponsal rites 'twixt him and Holy Faith,
The troth-plight interchanged, as it is meet,
The lady who for him assent did breathe
Saw in a dream the wondrous fruit, which should
Come forth from him and from the heirs he hath.
And that his name be suited to his mood,
Inspired, his appellation did they take
From the possessive of what thus imbued
Him wholly: Dominick his name. I speak,
In sooth, as of the husbandman whom Christ
To aid him in his vineyard's toil did seek.
Well he appear'd familiar friend of Christ,
Since the first love in him made manifest
Was for the earliest counsel given by Christ.
His nurse oft found him, hush'd in wakeful rest,
On the bare ground, as though, " For this I came,"
He plainly had in spoken words exprest.
O sire, thee Felix well befits as name!
O mother, thou art well Joanna hight,
If it may bear the meaning which they claim!
And not for gain, the which men, day and night,
With Thaddeus and the Ostian Cardinal,
Do seek, but since true manna did delight
Him wholly, soon was he most learn'd in all
Things good; and 'gan to fence around the vine,
Whence, if neglected, soon the fruit doth fall.
And of the chair which once was more benign
To the poor righteous (and this not its sin,
But his who sits there, of corrupted line)
Not to give two or three for six, I ween,
Not for the first rich vacant benefice,
Not for the tithe which for God's poor had been,
He ask'd; but, 'gainst the world all sunk in vice,
The licence to do battle for the seed
Whence sprang the blooming wreath whose number twice
Twelve blossoms hath: and then, by word and deed,
With apostolic sanction rush'd along,
E'en like a mountain torrent which doth speed
From its high source. He on the tangled throng
Of weeds heretical more fiercely smote,
The more they did resist his impulse strong.
And from that river divers streams were brought,
Whose waters through the Catholic vineyard steal,
So that its plants with fresher life are fraught.
If on this manner was one chariot wheel
Of those on which the Holy Church doth fight,
And in the field of civil war prevail,
Here should be manifest unto thy sight
That other's worth whose history was told
Now by Aquinas, ere I came, aright
Most courteously. The orbit which doth hold
The highest place in all its circuit, lies
Neglected. Where the wine-crust form'd, of old,
Is now but mouldiness. His flock now tries
To follow in his footsteps' track no more:
But, turning, walketh in opposing guise.
Soon shall be seen what this ill culture sore
Hath borne for harvest; when the tare shall weep,
Because it is not garner'd in the store.
Most true it is, that he who searcheth deep
Within the pages of our volume shall
Find on some leaves, " The old path still I keep;"
But not of Acquasparta nor Casal:
Where some too strictly do this rule apply,
And some omit its precepts one and all.
Of Bonaventure, sooth, the life am I,
Of Bagnoregio; who the lesser care
Did ever bend unto mine office high.
Illuminato and Augustine here
Shine, who among the first, with naked feet,
Girt with the friar's cord, to God drew near.
Pier Comestor here doth with us meet:
The Spaniard Peter, who twelve volumes wrote;
And Hugo of St. Victor us doth greet.
The prophet Nathan with us hath his lot;
And Anselm: that Donatus, too, from whom
Light fell on the first art; and here is sought
The Metropolitan St. Chrysostom.
And Raban, Joachim the Calabrese,
To whom the gift of prophecy did come;
And many a paladin, to sound whose praise
I now am led by the bright courtesy
Of Fra Tommaso and his learnid lays:
Thus hither have I come, with this good company. "