Classic Poem

As one enamour'd, singing a sweet lay,
She ended thus her fair discourse, and said:
" Blessid is he whose sins are purged away. "
Like nymphs who stray amid the sylvan shade,
Alone, and now they seek the sunny beam,
Now of its burning light are they afraid,
Thus did she bend her course, against the stream,
Still wand'ring on the flowery bank: and I,
As her slow steps, went slowly. And, I deem,
Not yet a hundred paces did we try,
'Twixt hers and mine, when lo! the streamlet roll'd
Toward the shining of the eastern sky.
Nor long we thus our onward way did hold,
When the fair maiden turn'd to me, and said:
" My brother, look and listen. " And behold!
A sudden splendour o'er the forest shed
Brightness amid the glooms from every part;
I deem'd, perchance the lightning's flash had sped.
But not as lightning did the gleam depart;
It brighten'd more unto the perfect morn:
" What thing is this? " I said within my heart.
And a sweet voice of melody was borne
Upon the luminous air; and then mine ire
Rose against Eve, because with daring scorn,
When earth obey'd, and the bright heavenly quire,
A woman, new-created, all alone
Lifted the veil that hid our knowledge dire:
Else had I never made so sad a moan;
And those delights ineffable, I wis,
Long years ago for aye I should have known.
While 'mid such earnests of eternal bliss
I went, and still more eagerly did long
For fuller glimpses of the land of peace,
I saw amid the green and tangled throng
Of forest leaves, it seem'd, a burning fire,
And then I knew that the sweet sound was song.
O holy, holiest maidens of the lyre,
If ever, for your sakes, on me hath lain
Hunger, or cold, or vigils, I require
My guerdon. Let Urania's starry train
Give of the fount of Helicon, that I
Strong thoughts may render into measured strain.
A little further on did I descry
Somewhat; it seem'd, seven trees of gold, methought;
Because much space 'twixt them and me did lie.
But when I near this wond'rous sight was brought,
No more did faint resemblance do me wrong,
Nor distance longer with deceit was fraught.
And I perceived, in truthful reason strong,
What seem'd as trees were lamps of golden light,
And heard Hosanna in the voice of song.
On high, resplendent shone the radiance bright,
More clear than moon in the blue depths serene,
In her mid month at middle hour of night.
Admiring much at this strange thing, I ween,
To Virgil then I turn'd, and he replied
To me, with no less wonder in his mien.
I look'd once more tow'rds that which I descried,
The vision which advanced with paces slow,
More tardy than of newly-wedded bride.
The lady spake: " Now wherefore dost thou glow
Thus in the aspect of yon living flame,
Nor seek'st the thing which follows it to know? "
Then saw I those who in white garments came,
Following their leader's steps; no living wight
Hath seen such snowy gleam. And with the same
Full splendour did the stream give back the light,
And there as plainly did my form appear,
As though a spotless mirror met my sight.
When to the river's brink I drew so near,
That but the stream before me I might find,
I stopp'd to look upon the radiance clear.
And now the flames advance, and leave behind
A trail of glory, painting all the air,
Like bright-hued banners borne upon the wind.
Seven diverse bands within the splendour were;
Of the same hues from which the Sun his bow
Doth form, the Moon her silver girdle fair.
More distant than my mortal sight might know
They stream'd beyond the far horizon's bound;
In breadth, I think, ten paces ye might go.
And, 'neath the light their splendours shed around,
Lo! twice twelve elders, twain by twain, drew nigh;
Each with a lily diadem was crown'd.
And they their voices lifted up on high,
And sang: " Among Eve's daughters thou art blest,
And blessid be thy loveliness for aye. "
After this band of souls elect had pass'd,
Nor longer were the flowers and herbage green,
Beyond the streamlet, by their footsteps prest,
As light succeeding light on high is seen,
Four living creatures in their traces came,
Their brows enwreathed with freshest leaves, I ween.
And each six pinions bore: in hue the same,
Gemm'd with such eyes as Argus had of yore,
But shining with a yet more living flame.
It needs not now that I should linger more,
And spend my rhymes in telling of their form;
Because I now must turn to other lore.
But if therewith thou wouldst thy mind inform,
Read in Ezekiel, from the land of cold
How they came forth in lightning and in storm.
The vision on his page thou dost behold,
Thus here; save that St. John saw not the same,
Touching their pinions, but with me doth hold.
Within the space those creatures did enframe,
A chariot borne upon triumphal wheels,
And harness'd to a flying griffin, came.
In such a wise this wond'rous steed reveals
His wings between the bands of rainbow light,
That none of their bright beauty he conceals.
Those pinions rose beyond my mortal sight:
And glittering gold the plumage that they wore;
All else, vermilion, tinging snowy white.
Never did Rome such chariot, of yore,
On Scipio or on Caesar's self bestow:
Yea, by its side the Car of Light were poor,
The Sun's own car, that burn'd with fiery glow,
When Jove, in hidden justice, heard the cry
Which to his throne from trembling Earth did go.
At the right wheel, three damsels seem'd to fly,
With dancing steps: the first so rosy red,
Scarcely in flame ye might her form descry;
The next, who with light motion swiftly sped,
Seem'd wholly radiant with the emerald's glance;
The third appear'd as snow but newly shed.
And now the white-robed maiden led the dance,
Now she of rosy hue; and at her song,
More swift or slow their paces did advance.
And by the left wheel then four pass'd along,
In purple robes; and she their steps who led
Saw with three visual orbs. Anear this throng,
I saw two ancient men, in garb array'd
Which all unlike in form and hue did seem;
Yet were they like in their demeanour staid.
One seem'd to be a follower of him,
The great Hippocrates, whom nature gave
To those of whom she did most fondly deem.
With contrary intent, a burnish'd glaive
Of sharp and glittering light the other held;
Wherefore I trembled, e'en beyond the wave.
Then four, in humble garments, I beheld;
And following them, came an old man alone,
In slumber, yet with wakeful brow unquell'd.
And all the seven, as those who first had gone,
Were in like raiment cloth'd; save that, in room
Of lily-blossoms, round their foreheads shone
Garlands of roses and each crimson bloom:
Well might ye deem, when gazing from afar,
Their burning brows lit up the forest-gloom.
And when anear me came that wond'rous car,
The thunder spake; and all the goodly band,
(As though some high behest their way did bar)
With the seven golden lamps, stood on the river strand.