Paradiso: Canto XXXI
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In
fashion then as of a snow-white rose
Displayed
itself to me the saintly host,
Whom Christ in his own blood had made
his bride,
But the other host, that flying sees and sings
The
Glory of Him who doth enamour it,
And the goodness that created it so noble,
Even as a
swarm of
bees, that sinks in flowers
One moment, and the next returns again
To where its
labour is to
sweetness turned,
Sank into the great flower, that is adorned
With leaves so many, and thence
reascended
To where its love
abideth evermore.
Their
faces had they all of living
flame,
And
wings of gold, and all the rest so
white
No snow unto that limit doth attain.
From bench to bench, into the flower
descending,
They carried something of the
peace and ardour
Which by the
fanning of their flanks they won.
Nor did the
interposing 'twixt the flower
And what was o'er it of such plenitude
Of flying shapes impede the sight and
splendour;
Because the light
divine so
penetrates
The
universe,
according to its merit,
That
naught can be an obstacle against it.
This realm secure and full of
gladsomeness,
Crowded with ancient people and with modern,
Unto one mark had all its look and love.
O
Trinal Light, that in a single star
Sparkling upon their sight so satisfies them,
Look down upon our tempest here
below!
If the
barbarians, coming from some
region
That every day by
Helice is covered,
Revolving with her
son whom she delights in,
Beholding Rome and all her noble works,
Were
wonder-struck, what time the
Lateran
Above all mortal things was
eminent,
--
I who to the divine had from the
human,
From time unto
eternity, had come,
From
Florence to a people just and sane,
With what
amazement must I have been filled!
Truly between this and the
joy, it was
My
pleasure not to hear, and to be mute.
And as a
pilgrim who
delighteth him
In
gazing round the temple of his vow,
And hopes some day to
retell how it was,
So through the living light my way
pursuing
Directed I
mine eyes o'er all the ranks,
Now up, now down, and now all round
about.
Faces
I saw of
charity persuasive,
Embellished by His
light and their own smile,
And
attitudes adorned with every grace.
The general form of
Paradise already
My glance had
comprehended as a whole,
In no part hitherto remaining fixed,
And round I turned me with
rekindled wish
My Lady to interrogate of things
Concerning which my mind was in suspense.
One thing I meant, another
answered me;
I thought I should see
Beatrice, and saw
An Old Man habited like the
glorious people.
O'erflowing was he in his eyes and
cheeks
With joy benign, in attitude of
pity
As to a tender father is
becoming.
And "She,
where is she?"
instantly I said;
Whence he: "To put an end to thy
desire,
Me
Beatrice hath sent from mine own
place.
And if thou
lookest up to the third round
Of the first rank,
again shalt thou behold her
Upon the throne her merits have
assigned her."
Without reply I lifted up mine eyes,
And saw her, as she made
herself a
crown
Reflecting from herself the
eternal rays.
Not from that
region which the highest thunders
Is any mortal eye so far removed,
In
whatsoever sea it deepest sinks,
As there from
Beatrice my sight; but this
Was nothing unto me; because her image
Descended not to me by
medium blurred.
"O Lady, thou in whom my hope is strong,
And who for my
salvation didst endure
In Hell to leave the imprint of thy feet,
Of
whatsoever things I have beheld,
As coming from thy power and from thy goodness
I
recognise the virtue and the grace.
Thou from a slave hast brought me unto freedom,
By all those ways, by all the expedients,
Whereby thou hadst the power of doing it.
Preserve towards me thy
magnificence,
So that this soul of mine, which thou hast
healed,
Pleasing to thee be loosened from the body."
Thus I implored; and she, so far away,
Smiled, as it
seemed, and looked once more at me;
Then unto the eternal fountain turned.
And said the
Old Man holy: "That thou mayst
Accomplish perfectly thy
journeying,
Whereunto prayer and holy love have sent me,
Fly with
thine eyes all round about this garden;
For seeing it will
discipline thy sight
Farther to mount along the ray
divine.
And she, the
Queen of Heaven, for whom I burn
Wholly with love, will grant us every
grace,
Because that I her faithful
Bernard am."
As he who
peradventure from
Croatia
Cometh to gaze at our
Veronica,
Who through its ancient fame is never
sated,
But says in thought, the while it is displayed,
"My Lord,
Christ Jesus,
God of very
God,
Now was your semblance made like unto this?"
Even such was I while gazing at the living
Charity of the man, who in this world
By
contemplation tasted of that peace.
"Thou son of grace, this
jocund life," began he,
"Will not be known to thee by
keeping ever
Thine eyes below here on the lowest place;
But mark the
circles to the most remote,
Until thou shalt behold
enthroned the
Queen
To whom this realm is subject and
devoted."
I lifted up mine eyes, and as at morn
The
oriental part of the horizon
Surpasses that wherein the sun goes down,
Thus, as if going with mine eyes from vale
To mount, I saw a part in the
remoteness
Surpass in
splendour all the other front.
And even as there where we await the pole
That
Phaeton drove badly,
blazes more
The light, and is on either side diminished,
So likewise that
pacific oriflamme
Gleamed brightest in the centre, and each side
In equal measure did the flame abate.
And at that
centre, with their wings expanded,
More than
a thousand jubilant Angels saw I,
Each
differing in
effulgence and in kind.
I saw there at their sports and at their songs
A beauty smiling, which the gladness was
Within the eyes of all the other saints;
And if I had in speaking as much wealth
As in
imagining, I should not dare
To attempt the
smallest part of its delight.
Bernard, as soon as he beheld mine eyes
Fixed and intent upon its
fervid fervour,
His own with such
affection turned to her
That it made mine more
ardent to
behold.
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