Classic Poem

CANTO XXXI.

Argument.

Description of the two hosts of Heaven. — Beatrice ascends to her throne, and sends St. Bernard to Dante.

T HUS in the semblance of a snow-white rose,
I there beheld the army of the Blest,
Whom Christ did with his precious blood espouse:
The while those others, who, withouten rest,
Still as they fly do ever see and sing
His glory who such love on them imprest,
His goodness whence their gladsome life doth spring,
Even as a swarm of bees that on a flower
A moment pause, and one its flight doth wing
There where its labour gains its sweetest power,
Thus in the vast and many-petall'd bloom
Descended, and then once again they soar
To where their love finds aye such ample room.
Their faces all were of the living flame,
On wings of gold they seek each sweet perfume,
All else so white that never snow-flake came
To such pure, glistering perfectness: and where
They on the flower do pause, they shed the same
Calm love and peace which on their flight they bear;
Nor, 'twixt the blossom and the splendour high,
Does all their wingid plenitude impair
The vision of its glory. Since for aye
The light divine doth pierce each heavenly strand,
In measure of its worth, ye nought descry
That hides it. In this sure and joyous land,
Fill'd with the souls of new and ancient days,
All on one love and sign intent do stand
O threefold Light, that, join'd within the rays
Of one sole star contents them evermore,
Look down upon our Earth's dark, stormy ways!
If the Barbarians (from the distant shore
Above which Helici for aye doth speed
Her course, with the belovid son she bore)
Beholding Rome and all its wondrous meed
Of glory, stood with sorely 'mazid eyne,
When Lateran did all mortal things exceed,
I, who had come from human to divine,
From things of Time unto Eternity,
From Florence to a race of souls benign
And just, what stupor reignid now in me!
In sooth, 'twixt that and joy, the time had pass'd
Most gladly, hearing nought, and silently.
And, as a pilgrim who doth stand, at last,
When he the temple of his vow hath found,
And hopes to tell its grandeur, and doth cast
His glances here and there; thus through this bound
Of living light, mine eyes along each grade
I sent, now high, now low, now round and round.
There saw I brows which to fair love persuade,
Gemm'd with the light of God and with his smile,
And acts in all sweet honesty array'd.
The outward form of Paradise, the while
My mind already wholly understood;
Yet did no single part my thoughts beguile.
And then I turn'd me round, in eager mood,
That I might ask my Dame to solve the high
And curious doubts which here my soul imbued.
One thing I meant; another did reply:
I thought to look on Beatrice, and lo!
A venerable Form to me drew nigh,
Who clad as one of the Redeem'd did go:
Diffusid o'er his brow and eyes was shed
Benign and pious joy, as well might show
A tender father. Quickly then I said:
" But she; where hath she vanish'd? " He replied:
" I, moved by Beatrice, have hither sped,
From out the heavenly place where I abide,
To end thy long desire. If the third zone
Within the highest grade thou hast descried,
There thou shalt well behold her, on the throne
Allotted to her meed. " I answer'd not;
But raised mine eyes to her, who wove a crown
Of splendour, with the rays eternal fraught.
No mortal eye, from that far realm of air
Whence highest are the rolling thunders brought,
Is yet so distant, though in sooth it were
Down in the ocean's deepest gulf to dwell,
As now from me she soar'd, but still most fair.
" Lady, in whom my hope doth bloom so well,
And who for my salvation wast content
To leave thy footprints on the shores of Hell,
For all the wonders, 'mong which I have bent
My steps, I here acknowledge in this hour
The grace and virtue with thy goodness blent
Thou hast from servitude most sad and sore
Brought me unto a land of liberty,
By every means of which thou hadst the power.
Thy marvellous gifts do thou preserve in me,
That still my spirit, which thou hast made whole,
Freed from the flesh be pleasing unto thee. "
Even thus I pray'd; and Beatrice, whose soul
Look'd downward, smiling, from her distant home,
Turn'd to the fount whence living waters roll.
Then spake the holy Sage: " That thou may'st roam
No more, but fully reach thy journey's end,
To aid which, prayer and love have bade me come,
Around this garden let thy glances wend;
For, gazing there, the pathway thou shalt know,
Whereby to light divine thou may'st ascend.
And the bright Queen of Heaven, for whom I glow
Wholly with love, because for evermore
I am her faithful Bernard, shall bestow
On us all grace. " As he who from the shore,
Perchance, of far Croatia, comes to gaze
On our Veronica, whose fame of yore
Intently fills his heart, the while he says:
" My Saviour Jesus Christ! O God most true!
In very deed dost thou thine aspect raise
Before mine eyes? " thus was I, when I knew
His living charity, who, on this earth,
His peace, of old, from contemplation drew.
" O son of grace, this land of joyous mirth, "
He said, " thou ne'er canst know, while yet thine eyes
See but the lower grades, of lesser worth;
But let them to the further bounds arise,
Until they see the Queen, 'neath whom this bourne
In true and loyal obedience ever lies. "
I raised my glance; and as, at dawn of morn,
The gorgeous flashing of the orient heaven
Conquers the hue that in the west is worn,
Now, while mine eyes were to the mountains driven
From the low valley, on the verge afar
Light I beheld with which had vainly striven
All else around. And, even as when the Car
Which Phaiton so ill did guide draws nigh,
The radiance brightens, dimming every star,
Thus did that peaceful oriflamme on high
Glow in the midst, with pure and living light;
Elsewhere the rays did seem to fade and die.
And round the midst, with pinions spread for flight,
A thousand angels I beheld and more,
Rejoicing; each of diverse sheen and might:
And in their dances and their song they wore
A smile of beauty, which bright joyance shed
On all the saints of the celestial shore.
If o'er my speech such ample wealth were spread
As Fancy doth possess, that sweet content
Must yet by me be evermore unsaid.
Then Bernard, as he saw my eyes intent
With fixid gaze upon this burning glow,
His own with such deep love towards her bent,
That mine a yet more longing eagerness did know.