CANTO XXVI.
Argument.
St. John examines Dante on the nature and ground of Heavenly Love. — The soul of Adam appears and discourses concerning his life in Paradise, his sojourn in Hades, and the first language of man.
T HE while I fear'd, because my sight was spent
By the refulgent flame which me did blind,
There came a breath which fixed my thoughts intent,
And said: " Till thou art strong once more to find
The visual power which thou hast lost, affray'd
By me, 'tis well to solace here thy mind,
Discoursing. Then declare whereon is stay'd
Thy heart's desire; for thou mayst be secure,
Thy vision is but lost, not wholly dead.
Because the Lady who through this most pure
Resplendent region leads thee, now doth hold
Within her eyes the self-same power to cure,
Possess'd by Ananias' hand, of old. "
I said: " The remedy, whene'er she will,
May come unto those gates which did unfold,
That she might enter with the fire whence still
I burn. The Good which aye content doth shed
O'er all this Court, doth ever wholly fill
The page by love more clear or faintly read,
Its Alpha and its Omega. " And now
The voice which took from me my sudden dread,
Caused by the radiance of that blinding glow,
To hold discourse again made me intent,
And said: " More closely sifted thou must show
Thy thoughts, and tell what hand thy bow hath bent
Towards its mark. " And thus did I reply:
" In truth, by philosophic argument,
And by authority which from on high
Descends, such love should on my heart be seal'd;
For good, as it is good, in us must aye,
Whene'er its nature is no more conceal'd,
Enkindle love, which doth the higher soar,
As more of goodness is thereto reveal'd.
Then to the Essence where such ample store
Abideth, that all good things which ye find
In aught besides but give ye back once more
The reflex of his splendour, should the mind
Of each who clearly doth the truth discern,
In which this proof is founded, ever bind
Its love most firmly. And this truth I learn
From him who teaches me the lofty worth
Of love, the primal substance sempitern.
The voice of the great Author sets it forth,
Who unto Moses said: " Thou shalt behold
My goodness." Thou too spak'st of it on earth,
When thou the Gospel-message didst unfold,
Which o'er all revelation soars on high,
And hath before the sons of men unroll'd
The hidden things which in your world do lie. "
I heard: " By light which doth from reason spring,
And by authority agreeing aye
Therewith, thy highest love unto the king
Of Heaven in sovereign measure should be led.
But now dost thou perceive no other string
That draws thee tow'rds him? By thy lips be said
How many and how sharp the points whereby
This love doth spur thee. " Nor from me was hid
The holy thought which in the speech did lie
Of him, the Eagle of the Lord; but well
I saw that he my heart of hearts would try.
Once more I spake: " All things which e'er befel
Of power to make the soul to God return,
With their full store my love's deep river swell.
My being, and the being of each bourne,
Of the whole Universe; the death which He
Endur'd, that I might live; the hope still worn
By every faithful spirit, as by me,
Join'd with the living consciousness of which
I spake, have drawn me forth from out the sea
Of evil love, and set me on the beach
Of that which ne'er is turned aside to wrong.
E'en to the leaves of God's own trees doth reach
My love, but as He loves them. " Now a song
Of softest music floated through the sky,
And " Holy, holy, holy, " with that throng
My Lady sang. As, oft, when sleep doth fly
From sudden light, which then, from fold to fold,
Enters within the newly rousid eye,
The slumb'rer, waken'd, doth its ray behold
With dread; because he is too weak to bear
Its splendour, till his reason makes him bold:
Even thus the scales which did my sight impair
Fled from the glance of Beatrice, which shone
A thousand miles and more. Then clearer were
Mine eyes than ere their visual power had gone;
And, stupefied, I ask'd, in sore amaze,
Of a fourth Light which made his presence known
Anear us. And my Dame: " Within those rays
The first-created soul of man doth bring
Unto his Maker worship and high praise. "
As leaves which to the topmost branches cling,
When the wind passes o'er them bend the bough,
Then rise, since their own strength doth upward spring;
Thus I, the while she this to me did show;
And much I marvell'd: then again secure,
The longing wish to speak shed forth its glow,
And I began: " O fruit, the sole mature
Produced from its first hour, O ancient sire,
The father of each bride while Earth shall 'dure,
And of her spouse! I pray with strong desire,
That thou wouldst speak to me: thou seist well
My wish; thus, lest some hindrance I inspire,
In words my thought is not made visible. "
As, when ye o'er an animal do fling
Some covering, ye may each motion tell,
Since closely that which wraps it round doth cling,
Thus did the earliest soul show forth to me
The joy which he to grant my suit did bring;
And thence was breathed: " Though all untold by thee,
Thy wish more clearly by mine eyes is seen,
Than e'er by thine the surest certainty,
For I in the true mirror gaze, I ween,
Which o'er created things sheds double light,
Receiving light from none. How long hath been
Since I was placed by God within the bright
And blooming garden of all lovely flowers,
Whence this fair Dame hath led thy steps aright,
Up by so high a stair; how long its bowers
Mine eyes delighted; and the proper cause
Of ill; the speech which in those pleasant hours
I used and made: all this thy spirit draws
With curious longing. Know, my son, in truth,
'Twas not the tree, but breaking of God's laws,
That caused such exile. Thus, where the soft ruth
Of thy sweet Dame sent Virgil to thine aid,
For One to give the world again its youth
I long'd, till on its course the sun had sped
Four thousand and three hundred times and twain;
And through each glittering sign its orb was led
Nine hundred times and thirty, ere was ta'en
From me my mortal life. The tongue I spake
Was wholly spent, ere yet the fruitless pain
Of Nimrod's race was ended. Ye awake
No voice immutable by human will,
Which, changing with the rolling skies, doth make
No durable result. By nature still
Ye speak; but thus, or thus, is left, I wis,
That ye therein your pleasure may fulfil.
Ere I descended to the deep abyss,
El was the name by which the earth did know
That Highest One, who clothes me here with bliss;
Eloi then: and this doth plainly show
That mortal use doth ever pass away,
As leaves upon the bough do come and go.
I, on the mount which lifts its fair array
High o'er the wave, abode in good and ill
From the first hour to that which aye doth stay
Beyond the sixth, when Day its quadrant doth fulfil. "
Argument.
St. John examines Dante on the nature and ground of Heavenly Love. — The soul of Adam appears and discourses concerning his life in Paradise, his sojourn in Hades, and the first language of man.
T HE while I fear'd, because my sight was spent
By the refulgent flame which me did blind,
There came a breath which fixed my thoughts intent,
And said: " Till thou art strong once more to find
The visual power which thou hast lost, affray'd
By me, 'tis well to solace here thy mind,
Discoursing. Then declare whereon is stay'd
Thy heart's desire; for thou mayst be secure,
Thy vision is but lost, not wholly dead.
Because the Lady who through this most pure
Resplendent region leads thee, now doth hold
Within her eyes the self-same power to cure,
Possess'd by Ananias' hand, of old. "
I said: " The remedy, whene'er she will,
May come unto those gates which did unfold,
That she might enter with the fire whence still
I burn. The Good which aye content doth shed
O'er all this Court, doth ever wholly fill
The page by love more clear or faintly read,
Its Alpha and its Omega. " And now
The voice which took from me my sudden dread,
Caused by the radiance of that blinding glow,
To hold discourse again made me intent,
And said: " More closely sifted thou must show
Thy thoughts, and tell what hand thy bow hath bent
Towards its mark. " And thus did I reply:
" In truth, by philosophic argument,
And by authority which from on high
Descends, such love should on my heart be seal'd;
For good, as it is good, in us must aye,
Whene'er its nature is no more conceal'd,
Enkindle love, which doth the higher soar,
As more of goodness is thereto reveal'd.
Then to the Essence where such ample store
Abideth, that all good things which ye find
In aught besides but give ye back once more
The reflex of his splendour, should the mind
Of each who clearly doth the truth discern,
In which this proof is founded, ever bind
Its love most firmly. And this truth I learn
From him who teaches me the lofty worth
Of love, the primal substance sempitern.
The voice of the great Author sets it forth,
Who unto Moses said: " Thou shalt behold
My goodness." Thou too spak'st of it on earth,
When thou the Gospel-message didst unfold,
Which o'er all revelation soars on high,
And hath before the sons of men unroll'd
The hidden things which in your world do lie. "
I heard: " By light which doth from reason spring,
And by authority agreeing aye
Therewith, thy highest love unto the king
Of Heaven in sovereign measure should be led.
But now dost thou perceive no other string
That draws thee tow'rds him? By thy lips be said
How many and how sharp the points whereby
This love doth spur thee. " Nor from me was hid
The holy thought which in the speech did lie
Of him, the Eagle of the Lord; but well
I saw that he my heart of hearts would try.
Once more I spake: " All things which e'er befel
Of power to make the soul to God return,
With their full store my love's deep river swell.
My being, and the being of each bourne,
Of the whole Universe; the death which He
Endur'd, that I might live; the hope still worn
By every faithful spirit, as by me,
Join'd with the living consciousness of which
I spake, have drawn me forth from out the sea
Of evil love, and set me on the beach
Of that which ne'er is turned aside to wrong.
E'en to the leaves of God's own trees doth reach
My love, but as He loves them. " Now a song
Of softest music floated through the sky,
And " Holy, holy, holy, " with that throng
My Lady sang. As, oft, when sleep doth fly
From sudden light, which then, from fold to fold,
Enters within the newly rousid eye,
The slumb'rer, waken'd, doth its ray behold
With dread; because he is too weak to bear
Its splendour, till his reason makes him bold:
Even thus the scales which did my sight impair
Fled from the glance of Beatrice, which shone
A thousand miles and more. Then clearer were
Mine eyes than ere their visual power had gone;
And, stupefied, I ask'd, in sore amaze,
Of a fourth Light which made his presence known
Anear us. And my Dame: " Within those rays
The first-created soul of man doth bring
Unto his Maker worship and high praise. "
As leaves which to the topmost branches cling,
When the wind passes o'er them bend the bough,
Then rise, since their own strength doth upward spring;
Thus I, the while she this to me did show;
And much I marvell'd: then again secure,
The longing wish to speak shed forth its glow,
And I began: " O fruit, the sole mature
Produced from its first hour, O ancient sire,
The father of each bride while Earth shall 'dure,
And of her spouse! I pray with strong desire,
That thou wouldst speak to me: thou seist well
My wish; thus, lest some hindrance I inspire,
In words my thought is not made visible. "
As, when ye o'er an animal do fling
Some covering, ye may each motion tell,
Since closely that which wraps it round doth cling,
Thus did the earliest soul show forth to me
The joy which he to grant my suit did bring;
And thence was breathed: " Though all untold by thee,
Thy wish more clearly by mine eyes is seen,
Than e'er by thine the surest certainty,
For I in the true mirror gaze, I ween,
Which o'er created things sheds double light,
Receiving light from none. How long hath been
Since I was placed by God within the bright
And blooming garden of all lovely flowers,
Whence this fair Dame hath led thy steps aright,
Up by so high a stair; how long its bowers
Mine eyes delighted; and the proper cause
Of ill; the speech which in those pleasant hours
I used and made: all this thy spirit draws
With curious longing. Know, my son, in truth,
'Twas not the tree, but breaking of God's laws,
That caused such exile. Thus, where the soft ruth
Of thy sweet Dame sent Virgil to thine aid,
For One to give the world again its youth
I long'd, till on its course the sun had sped
Four thousand and three hundred times and twain;
And through each glittering sign its orb was led
Nine hundred times and thirty, ere was ta'en
From me my mortal life. The tongue I spake
Was wholly spent, ere yet the fruitless pain
Of Nimrod's race was ended. Ye awake
No voice immutable by human will,
Which, changing with the rolling skies, doth make
No durable result. By nature still
Ye speak; but thus, or thus, is left, I wis,
That ye therein your pleasure may fulfil.
Ere I descended to the deep abyss,
El was the name by which the earth did know
That Highest One, who clothes me here with bliss;
Eloi then: and this doth plainly show
That mortal use doth ever pass away,
As leaves upon the bough do come and go.
I, on the mount which lifts its fair array
High o'er the wave, abode in good and ill
From the first hour to that which aye doth stay
Beyond the sixth, when Day its quadrant doth fulfil. "