Mak’st dull, so that thou seest not the thing, Which thou hadst seen, had that been shaken off. Whence she who saw me, clearly as myself, To calm my troubled mind, before I ask’d, Open’d her lips, and gracious thus began: “With false imagination thou thyself
The newness of the sound, And that great light, inflam’d me with desire, Keener than e’er was felt, to know their cause. Temper’d of thee and measur’d, charm’d mine ear, Then seem’d to me so much of heav’n to blaze With the sun’s flame, that rain or flood ne’er made A lake so broad. Whenas the wheel which thou dost ever guide, Desired Spirit! with its harmony If I were only what thou didst create, Then newly, Love! by whom the heav’n is rul’d, Thou know’st, who by thy light didst bear me up. Her eyes fast fix’d on the eternal wheels, Beatrice stood unmov’d and I with kenįix’d upon her, from upward gaze remov’d At her aspect, such inwardly becameĪs Glaucus, when he tasted of the herb, That made him peer among the ocean gods Words may not tell of that transhuman change: And therefore let the example serve, though weak, For those whom grace hath better proof in store And suddenly upon the day appear’dĪ day new-ris’n, as he, who hath the power, Had with another sun bedeck’d the sky. I suffer’d it not long, and yet so long That I beheld it bick’ring sparks around, As iron that comes boiling from the fire. That here exceeds our pow’r thanks to the place Made for the dwelling of the human kind So of her act, that through the eyesight pass’d Into my fancy, mine was form’d and straight, Beyond our mortal wont, I fix’d mine eyes Upon the sun. To issue, and reflected upwards rise, E’en as a pilgrim bent on his return, Morning there, Here eve was by almost such passage made And whiteness had o’erspread that hemisphere, Blackness the other part when to the left I saw Beatrice turn’d, and on the sun Through diver passages, the world’s bright lamp Rises to mortals, but through that which joins Four circles with the threefold cross, in best Course, and in happiest constellation set He comes, and to the worldly wax best gives Its temper and impression. From a small spark Great flame hath risen: after me perchance Others with better voice may pray, and gain From the Cirrhaean city answer kind. If but seldom, mighty Sire! To grace his triumph gathers thence a wreath Caesar or bard (more shame for human wills Deprav’d) joy to the Delphic god must spring From the Pierian foliage, when one breast Is with such thirst inspir’d.
That of that happy realm the shadow’d form Trac’d in my thoughts I may set forth to view, Thou shalt behold me of thy favour’d tree Come to the foot, and crown myself with leaves For to that honour thou, and my high theme Will fit me. O power divine! If thou to me of shine impart so much, Thus far hath one of steep Parnassus’ brows Suffic’d me henceforth there is need of both For my remaining enterprise Do thouĮnter into my bosom, and there breathe So, as when Marsyas by thy hand was dragg’d Forth from his limbs unsheath’d. Nathless all, That in my thoughts I of that sacred realm Could store, shall now be matter of my song.Īnd make me such a vessel of thy worth, As thy own laurel claims of me belov’d. In heav’n, That largeliest of his light partakes, was I, Witness of things, which to relate again Surpasseth power of him who comes from thence For that, so near approaching its desire Our intellect is to such depth absorb’d, That memory cannot follow. His glory, by whose might all things are mov’d, Pierces the universe, and in one part
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