The Divine Comedy by Dante: The Vision Of Paradise: Canto XXVII

Then "Glory to the Father, to the Son,     And to the Holy Spirit," rang aloud     Throughout all Paradise, that with the song     My spirit reel'd, so passing sweet the strain:     And what I saw was equal ecstasy;     One universal smile it seem'd of all things,     Joy past compare, gladness unutterable,     Imperishable life of peace and love,     Exhaustless riches and unmeasur'd bliss.     Before mine eyes stood the four torches lit;     And that, which first had come, began to wax     In brightness, and in semblance such became,     As Jove might be, if he and Mars were birds,     And interchang'd their plumes. Silence ensued,     Through the blest quire, by Him, who here appoints     Vicissitude of ministry, enjoin'd;     When thus I heard: "Wonder not, if my hue     Be chang'd; for, while I speak, these shalt thou see     All in like manner change with me. My place     He who usurps on earth (my place, ay, mine,     Which in the presence of the Son of God     Is void), the same hath made my cemetery     A common sewer of puddle and of blood:     The more below his triumph, who from hence     Malignant fell." Such colour, as the sun,     At eve or morning, paints an adverse cloud,     Then saw I sprinkled over all the sky.     And as th' unblemish'd dame, who in herself     Secure of censure, yet at bare report     Of other's failing, shrinks with maiden fear;     So Beatrice in her semblance chang'd:     And such eclipse in heav'n methinks was seen,     When the Most Holy suffer'd. Then the words     Proceeded, with voice, alter'd from itself     So clean, the semblance did not alter more.     "Not to this end was Christ's spouse with my blood,     With that of Linus, and of Cletus fed:     That she might serve for purchase of base gold:     But for the purchase of this happy life     Did Sextus, Pius, and Callixtus bleed,     And Urban, they, whose doom was not without     Much weeping seal'd. No purpose was of our     That on the right hand of our successors     Part of the Christian people should be set,     And part upon their left; nor that the keys,     Which were vouchsaf'd me, should for ensign serve     Unto the banners, that do levy war     On the baptiz'd: nor I, for sigil-mark     Set upon sold and lying privileges;     Which makes me oft to bicker and turn red.     In shepherd's clothing greedy wolves below     Range wide o'er all the pastures. Arm of God!     Why longer sleepst thou? Caorsines and Gascona     Prepare to quaff our blood. O good beginning     To what a vile conclusion must thou stoop!     But the high providence, which did defend     Through Scipio the world's glory unto Rome,     Will not delay its succour: and thou, son,     Who through thy mortal weight shall yet again     Return below, open thy lips, nor hide     What is by me not hidden." As a Hood     Of frozen vapours streams adown the air,     What time the she-goat with her skiey horn     Touches the sun; so saw I there stream wide     The vapours, who with us had linger'd late     And with glad triumph deck th' ethereal cope.     Onward my sight their semblances pursued;     So far pursued, as till the space between     From its reach sever'd them: whereat the guide     Celestial, marking me no more intent     On upward gazing, said, "Look down and see     What circuit thou hast compass'd." From the hour     When I before had cast my view beneath,     All the first region overpast I saw,     Which from the midmost to the bound'ry winds;     That onward thence from Gades I beheld     The unwise passage of Laertes' son,     And hitherward the shore, where thou, Europa!     Mad'st thee a joyful burden: and yet more     Of this dim spot had seen, but that the sun,     A constellation off and more, had ta'en     His progress in the zodiac underneath.     Then by the spirit, that doth never leave     Its amorous dalliance with my lady's looks,     Back with redoubled ardour were mine eyes     Led unto her: and from her radiant smiles,     Whenas I turn'd me, pleasure so divine     Did lighten on me, that whatever bait     Or art or nature in the human flesh,     Or in its limn'd resemblance, can combine     Through greedy eyes to take the soul withal,     Were to her beauty nothing. Its boon influence     From the fair nest of Leda rapt me forth,     And wafted on into the swiftest heav'n.     What place for entrance Beatrice chose,     I may not say, so uniform was all,     Liveliest and loftiest. She my secret wish     Divin'd; and with such gladness, that God's love     Seem'd from her visage shining, thus began:     "Here is the goal, whence motion on his race     Starts; motionless the centre, and the rest     All mov'd around. Except the soul divine,     Place in this heav'n is none, the soul divine,     Wherein the love, which ruleth o'er its orb,     Is kindled, and the virtue that it sheds;     One circle, light and love, enclasping it,     As this doth clasp the others; and to Him,     Who draws the bound, its limit only known.     Measur'd itself by none, it doth divide     Motion to all, counted unto them forth,     As by the fifth or half ye count forth ten.     The vase, wherein time's roots are plung'd, thou seest,     Look elsewhere for the leaves. O mortal lust!     That canst not lift thy head above the waves     Which whelm and sink thee down! The will in man     Bears goodly blossoms; but its ruddy promise     Is, by the dripping of perpetual rain,     Made mere abortion: faith and innocence     Are met with but in babes, each taking leave     Ere cheeks with down are sprinkled; he, that fasts,     While yet a stammerer, with his tongue let loose     Gluts every food alike in every moon.     One yet a babbler, loves and listens to     His mother; but no sooner hath free use     Of speech, than he doth wish her in her grave.     So suddenly doth the fair child of him,     Whose welcome is the morn and eve his parting,     To negro blackness change her virgin white.     "Thou, to abate thy wonder, note that none     Bears rule in earth, and its frail family     Are therefore wand'rers. Yet before the date,     When through the hundredth in his reck'ning drops     Pale January must be shor'd aside     From winter's calendar, these heav'nly spheres     Shall roar so loud, that fortune shall be fain     To turn the poop, where she hath now the prow;     So that the fleet run onward; and true fruit,     Expected long, shall crown at last the bloom!"