Classic Poem

" Deus venerunt gentes , " in sweet hymn,
Of voice alternating, now three, now four,
The damsels 'gan to chaunt, with weeping dim;
And Beatrice gave ear unto their lore,
With mien that bore well nigh as sad a trace
As Mary's at the cross. And when no more
The maidens sang, but unto her gave place,
Rising to her full height of majesty
She spake, a burning flush upon her face:
" A little while, and me ye shall not see,
And, sisters dear, a little while again,
And ye shall see me. " Now the seven did she
Lead on; and only by a sign she then
Bade me to follow her, with the fair dame,
And with the ancient Sage who did remain.
Thus pass'd we on; nor do I think we came
More than ten paces further, when her eyes
Mine eyes transpierced. Then spake she with the same
Calm aspect: " Come more quickly, in such wise
That when it chance I hold discourse with thee,
Thou mayst, unlet by space that 'twixt us lies,
Give ear. " Then pass'd I on full speedily.
She spake: " My brother, wherefore dost not dare
To ask me somewhat, as thou go'st with me? "
And, as with those who too much reverence wear,
Speaking before the great ones of the earth,
And thence their accents die upon the air,
Even thus with me the words but half came forth,
As I began: " Lady, full well, meseems,
Thou know'st my needs, and that of greatest worth
To aid them. " Then she said: " By the false gleams
Of fear and shame no longer walk; nor speak
In accents like unto a man who dreams.
Know, that the vessel which the serpent brake
Was, and is not; but be the guilty sure
That God's revenge doth tarry not, for sake
Of funeral sop. Nor without heir shall 'dure,
For aye, the bird whose plumage made the car
A monster first and afterwards a lure.
For well I see, in each propitious star,
That swift and surely shall the time arrive,
Secure from every let and every bar,
When one, who is five hundred, ten, and five,
Shall, sent by God, the harlot slay, and him
Whose guilt doth from the selfsame source derive.
It well may be that my narration, dim
As Themis or the Sphinx, persuade thee less,
Since it, like them, is shadowy as a dream;
But soon events shall be the Naiades,
To strip this riddle of its vale of gloom;
Nor hurt the herbs, nor cause the flocks distress.
This note thou well; and as these words do come
From me, so teach them unto those who live
A life which is a race unto the tomb.
And when thou dost on earth this history give,
See that thou hide not how thou saw'st the tree,
The which two several times despoil'd did grieve.
Know, he who robs its fruit and flowers, and he
Who shatters it, do blaspheme God, who made
It only for his use, in sanctity.
For this, the first-born soul of man was stay'd
Five thousand years and more, in weary pain,
Awaiting him on whom the guilt was laid.
Deep slumber surely must have lull'd thy brain,
If thou dost see not that its changid boughs,
And height, from some strange thing their cause have ta'en.
But thy vain thoughts, like Elsa's stream, which flows
In petrifying waves, have dull'd thy mind,
And earthly joys have been as Pyramus
To the white mulberry: else shouldst thou find
Only God's justice in the interdict,
When thou each circumstance hast here combined
But, since I see that in thine intellect
Is the hard substance and the hue of stone,
I bid thee in some feeble sort depict
(Though dazzled by the light that o'er thee shone)
This my discourse: as pilgrims do retain
The palm that in the Holy Land hath grown. "
And I: " As wax whereon the seal hath lain,
And from the impress given doth change no more,
Thy words have left their print upon my brain.
But why above my mortal sight dost soar
To such high regions, in thy much-loved speech,
That most I lose when most I seek thy lore? "
She answer'd me: " Because I thee would teach
To know the school wherein thou erst didst learn,
And if its doctrine to my words can reach:
And thence thine ancient way thou mayst discern,
How far it lieth from the path divine;
As far as Earth from highest heavenly bourne. "
Wherefore I said: " No memory is mine,
That I did e'er depart from love of thee,
Nor doth my conscience bear an evil sign. "
" If in thy heart no memory there be, "
She smiling answer'd, " yet bethink thee now,
That thou hast drunk of Lethi. When ye see
The smoke, then deem ye of the fiery glow;
Thus, thou in thy forgetfulness mayst seek
And find the proof of all thy guilt and woe.
But henceforth clearly unto thee I speak,
In words whose plainness shall be of more worth
To show the truth unto thy vision weak. "
More slow and with more splendour now went forth,
The sun, in crossing the meridian-way,
Which changes in each region of the earth,
When, at the ending of the forest gray,
(Like those whose pale green leaves and mourning boughs,
'Neath the dim shining of the northern ray,
Clothe the cold Alpine slopes anear the snows,)
The seven fair maidens stopp'd, as those whose art
Is to lead on a troop, and somewhat shows
Danger at hand. Here, from a fountain's heart,
Meseem'd both Tigris and Euphrates burst;
And then, as friends, reluctantly they part.
" Thou, of the human race the brightness, first
In glory, say, what stream its wave doth shed
Thus from one source, so widely then dispersed? "
And in response unto this prayer was said:
" Of this ask thou Matilda. " She replied,
As one on whom some causeless blame is laid:
" This, and all other things thereto allied,
Already have I told him; and, I ween,
My words have not been hid in Lethi's tide. "
And Beatrice: " Within his mind hath been,
Perchance, some greater care; which oft hath power
To cause the lesser to be dimly seen.
But now thou standest on Eunoi's shore;
Lead thou him there, as is thy wonted use,
And wake his ancient memory once more. "
As gentle spirits make no vain excuse,
But all their will unto another's bend,
Soon as a sign that bidding doth disclose,
Thus she, delaying not, now took my hand,
And unto Statius said, in accents low:
" Thou too come with him to the river-strand. "
Reader, had I more space, my song should show,
In part, the sweetness of the crystal stream,
Wherein ye ne'er satiety may know.
But every page is fill'd, which here I deem
Ordain'd unto this second canticle;
Thus more, in sooth, my art would ill beseem.
Now I came forth from the most holy rill,
Anew created, (as the plants which are
Clothed with fresh leaves in early spring-time still,)
Pure and disposed aright to rise unto each star.