CANTO XXVII.
Argument.
All the hosts of Heaven sing praises to the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. — Wrath of St Peter against those who usurp his place on earth — Dante ascends to the ninth celestial sphere. — Beatrice reproves the degeneracy of the age, and announces happier days to come.
N OW to the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost,
In the sweet songs of Paradise, the while,
Was " Glory " sung by all the heavenly host.
That which I saw did seem to me a smile
Of the whole Universe; because both ear
And eye the 'wild'ring vision did beguile.
O joy! O bliss ineffable and clear!
O life entire of holy love and peace!
O certain riches, all undimm'd by fear!
The four resplendent ones yet did not cease
Near me to burn; and he who first had come,
In dazzling radiance ever did increase:
And o'er his aspect then meseem'd that some
Mutation pass'd, as though both Jove and Mars
Were birds of heaven, and had exchanged each plume.
The Providence, that 'mong these choral stars
Assigns to each its rule and office, now
On every side their host from speech debars;
And then I heard: " If changed thou seest me glow,
Yet marvel not; for at my words thy eyne
Shall see the rest an alter'd semblance show.
He who usurps on earth that throne of mine,
That throne of mine, that throne of mine, which lies
Vacant in presence of the Son Divine,
My burial-place hath made a sink, whence rise
Foul steams of blood and filth; and, thence, below
In Hell, the Fiend rejoiceth, whom the skies
Cast forth. " The hue which, when the sun is low,
Painteth the fleeting clouds, both morn and eve,
O'er all the heaven suffused its burning glow;
And, as a modest maid, who doth believe
Herself most blameless, yet if she but hear
Another's fault, all timidly may grieve,
Thus Beatrice a changid brow did wear:
And such eclipse, methinks, was erst in heaven,
When Jesus died, of yore. Then to mine ear
The voice of him who spake so changed was given,
That, sooth, more alter'd did I not behold
His mien, as o'er him gusts of wrath seem'd driven:
" Deem not the Spouse of Christ was fed of old,
With blood of Linus, Cletus, and with mine,
Now to be used for the vile gain of gold.
But for the gain of this blest life benign,
Sixtus, Calixtus, Pius, Urban, shed
Their blood with suff'ring, for the hope divine.
We meant not that of Christian men be stay'd,
Part at the left, and part at the right hand
Of him who in our mantle is array'd;
Nor that the keys I bear by Christ's command,
Should, broider'd on a warlike banner, go
To join in ranks of battle 'gainst the band
Of the baptised; nor that my image show
Its impress on a seal by which is gain'd
Some lying privilege, whence oft I glow
With wrath. In shepherds' garments have remain'd,
On all the pastures, a fierce wolfish brood:
O hand of God, why is thy might restrain'd?
Those of Cahors and Gascony our blood
Prepare to drink: O fountain, pure at first,
With what vile things thou must be now imbued!
But the High Might, which did by Scipio erst
In Rome the glory of the world defend,
Forth from its clouds full soon will surely burst:
And thou, my son, who must once more descend
Down to the mortal earth, since thou dost lie
Beneath the weight of flesh which thee doth bend,
There tell this truth I speak " As from the sky
Our air sheds down the snow-flakes, when the horn
Of the clear-glittering Goat of heaven on high
Touches the Sun; thus Ether did adorn
Herself with flakes of vaporous light, which float
Still upward, once with us in this our bourne.
My steadfast gaze the soaring vision sought,
Until, for their great multitude, mine eye
Their path triumphant now perceivid not.
Then Beatrice, who did full well descry
That now no more my glance had upward flown
Thus spake: " Behold, thy changid site espy! "
And then I knew, since erst I gazed adown,
That I had moved through all the arc by which
From midst to verge is formid the first zone.
There beyond Gades did my vision reach
Ulysses' venturous path; and here, where sweet
Europa once was borne unto the beach:
And more, perchance, of our small earth might greet
Mine eyes; but now the sun had, on his way,
Gone forth a sign or more beneath my feet.
My mind enamour'd, in whose depth there lay
Love for my fairest Lady evermore,
Glow'd with yet stronger wish, on her bright ray
To gaze. If ever Art or Nature's lore
Created somewhat which the heart might fill,
In breathing form, or e'en in painting's store,
All should seem nought, comparid with the still
Diviner joy, which through my spirit swell'd,
As to her smile I turn'd. The wondrous thrill
Of power, received while I her glance beheld,
From Leda's lovely nest now sent me forth,
And in the swiftest heaven my course impell'd.
There every portion hath such living worth,
In truth I know not, in its purest fire,
What region was allotted for the birth
Of my new knowledge. But my strong desire
Was seen by Beatrice, who smiling said,
With mien so fair, that e'en the Eternal Sire
Therein seem'd glad: " The motion which doth shed
Stillness upon the midst, and all the rest
Doth move in circuit, here begins, as sped
Forth from its goal. This region of the blest
No other impulse hath, but from the mind
Divine, which lights the love that hath imprest
Its course, and all the power from thence assign'd;
For light and love do circle round it still,
As this round others. Here alone ye find
His guidance who doth gird it with his will:
Its motion from no other source may flow;
All others do its measure but fulfil,
As ten from out its fifth and half doth grow.
Here are the roots of Time; elsewhere its leaves
Spring forth: and this thou here may'st clearly know.
O dire cupidity, which aye deceives
So sorely mortal men, that none have power,
From out the wave which thus their sight bereaves
To rise! In man well flourishes the flower
Of Will; but ceaseless rain converts to wild
And worthless fruitage the true plumtree's store.
Ye find not now, save in a little child,
Or innocence or faith; for both are fled,
Ere springs the down upon the cheek. One, mild,
In early youth doth fast, who since hath fed,
At every season, on all kinds of food:
And one, when as a lisping infant led,
Obeys his mother's word, in loving mood,
Who, when he speaks with manhood's voice, would fain
Behold her in her grave, as his chief good.
Thus o'er the skin, once white, a darksome stain
Hath come, of the fair child of him whom morn
Doth bring, and evening bear from us again.
Think, that no marvel thence in thee be born,
None on the earth do rule or guidance bring;
Thus, to all evil things mankind doth turn.
Ere the last month of winter pass to spring,
(For the small fraction ye on earth neglect)
So loud a voice within those spheres shall ring,
That, sooth, the fortune ye so long expect
The poop shall turn where now the prow doth speed:
And thus the ship shall hold a course direct;
And to the bud and flower shall worthy fruit succeed. "
Argument.
All the hosts of Heaven sing praises to the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. — Wrath of St Peter against those who usurp his place on earth — Dante ascends to the ninth celestial sphere. — Beatrice reproves the degeneracy of the age, and announces happier days to come.
N OW to the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost,
In the sweet songs of Paradise, the while,
Was " Glory " sung by all the heavenly host.
That which I saw did seem to me a smile
Of the whole Universe; because both ear
And eye the 'wild'ring vision did beguile.
O joy! O bliss ineffable and clear!
O life entire of holy love and peace!
O certain riches, all undimm'd by fear!
The four resplendent ones yet did not cease
Near me to burn; and he who first had come,
In dazzling radiance ever did increase:
And o'er his aspect then meseem'd that some
Mutation pass'd, as though both Jove and Mars
Were birds of heaven, and had exchanged each plume.
The Providence, that 'mong these choral stars
Assigns to each its rule and office, now
On every side their host from speech debars;
And then I heard: " If changed thou seest me glow,
Yet marvel not; for at my words thy eyne
Shall see the rest an alter'd semblance show.
He who usurps on earth that throne of mine,
That throne of mine, that throne of mine, which lies
Vacant in presence of the Son Divine,
My burial-place hath made a sink, whence rise
Foul steams of blood and filth; and, thence, below
In Hell, the Fiend rejoiceth, whom the skies
Cast forth. " The hue which, when the sun is low,
Painteth the fleeting clouds, both morn and eve,
O'er all the heaven suffused its burning glow;
And, as a modest maid, who doth believe
Herself most blameless, yet if she but hear
Another's fault, all timidly may grieve,
Thus Beatrice a changid brow did wear:
And such eclipse, methinks, was erst in heaven,
When Jesus died, of yore. Then to mine ear
The voice of him who spake so changed was given,
That, sooth, more alter'd did I not behold
His mien, as o'er him gusts of wrath seem'd driven:
" Deem not the Spouse of Christ was fed of old,
With blood of Linus, Cletus, and with mine,
Now to be used for the vile gain of gold.
But for the gain of this blest life benign,
Sixtus, Calixtus, Pius, Urban, shed
Their blood with suff'ring, for the hope divine.
We meant not that of Christian men be stay'd,
Part at the left, and part at the right hand
Of him who in our mantle is array'd;
Nor that the keys I bear by Christ's command,
Should, broider'd on a warlike banner, go
To join in ranks of battle 'gainst the band
Of the baptised; nor that my image show
Its impress on a seal by which is gain'd
Some lying privilege, whence oft I glow
With wrath. In shepherds' garments have remain'd,
On all the pastures, a fierce wolfish brood:
O hand of God, why is thy might restrain'd?
Those of Cahors and Gascony our blood
Prepare to drink: O fountain, pure at first,
With what vile things thou must be now imbued!
But the High Might, which did by Scipio erst
In Rome the glory of the world defend,
Forth from its clouds full soon will surely burst:
And thou, my son, who must once more descend
Down to the mortal earth, since thou dost lie
Beneath the weight of flesh which thee doth bend,
There tell this truth I speak " As from the sky
Our air sheds down the snow-flakes, when the horn
Of the clear-glittering Goat of heaven on high
Touches the Sun; thus Ether did adorn
Herself with flakes of vaporous light, which float
Still upward, once with us in this our bourne.
My steadfast gaze the soaring vision sought,
Until, for their great multitude, mine eye
Their path triumphant now perceivid not.
Then Beatrice, who did full well descry
That now no more my glance had upward flown
Thus spake: " Behold, thy changid site espy! "
And then I knew, since erst I gazed adown,
That I had moved through all the arc by which
From midst to verge is formid the first zone.
There beyond Gades did my vision reach
Ulysses' venturous path; and here, where sweet
Europa once was borne unto the beach:
And more, perchance, of our small earth might greet
Mine eyes; but now the sun had, on his way,
Gone forth a sign or more beneath my feet.
My mind enamour'd, in whose depth there lay
Love for my fairest Lady evermore,
Glow'd with yet stronger wish, on her bright ray
To gaze. If ever Art or Nature's lore
Created somewhat which the heart might fill,
In breathing form, or e'en in painting's store,
All should seem nought, comparid with the still
Diviner joy, which through my spirit swell'd,
As to her smile I turn'd. The wondrous thrill
Of power, received while I her glance beheld,
From Leda's lovely nest now sent me forth,
And in the swiftest heaven my course impell'd.
There every portion hath such living worth,
In truth I know not, in its purest fire,
What region was allotted for the birth
Of my new knowledge. But my strong desire
Was seen by Beatrice, who smiling said,
With mien so fair, that e'en the Eternal Sire
Therein seem'd glad: " The motion which doth shed
Stillness upon the midst, and all the rest
Doth move in circuit, here begins, as sped
Forth from its goal. This region of the blest
No other impulse hath, but from the mind
Divine, which lights the love that hath imprest
Its course, and all the power from thence assign'd;
For light and love do circle round it still,
As this round others. Here alone ye find
His guidance who doth gird it with his will:
Its motion from no other source may flow;
All others do its measure but fulfil,
As ten from out its fifth and half doth grow.
Here are the roots of Time; elsewhere its leaves
Spring forth: and this thou here may'st clearly know.
O dire cupidity, which aye deceives
So sorely mortal men, that none have power,
From out the wave which thus their sight bereaves
To rise! In man well flourishes the flower
Of Will; but ceaseless rain converts to wild
And worthless fruitage the true plumtree's store.
Ye find not now, save in a little child,
Or innocence or faith; for both are fled,
Ere springs the down upon the cheek. One, mild,
In early youth doth fast, who since hath fed,
At every season, on all kinds of food:
And one, when as a lisping infant led,
Obeys his mother's word, in loving mood,
Who, when he speaks with manhood's voice, would fain
Behold her in her grave, as his chief good.
Thus o'er the skin, once white, a darksome stain
Hath come, of the fair child of him whom morn
Doth bring, and evening bear from us again.
Think, that no marvel thence in thee be born,
None on the earth do rule or guidance bring;
Thus, to all evil things mankind doth turn.
Ere the last month of winter pass to spring,
(For the small fraction ye on earth neglect)
So loud a voice within those spheres shall ring,
That, sooth, the fortune ye so long expect
The poop shall turn where now the prow doth speed:
And thus the ship shall hold a course direct;
And to the bud and flower shall worthy fruit succeed. "