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Gutenberg #8800

第 74 节

on some maiden’s cheek, Which from its fairness doth discharge the weight Of pudency, that stain’d it; such in her, And to mine eyes so sudden was the change, Through silvery whiteness of that temperate star, Whose sixth orb now enfolded us. I saw, Within that Jovial cresset, the clear sparks Of love, that reign’d there, fashion to my view Our language. And as birds, from river banks Arisen, now in round, now lengthen’d troop, Array them in their flight, greeting, as seems, Their new-found pastures; so, within the lights, The saintly creatures flying, sang, and made Now D. now I. now L. figur’d I’ th’ air.

First, singing, to their notes they mov’d, then one Becoming of these signs, a little while Did rest them, and were mute. O nymph divine Of Pegasean race! whose souls, which thou Inspir’st, mak’st glorious and long-liv’d, as they Cities and realms by thee! thou with thyself Inform me; that I may set forth the shapes, As fancy doth present them. Be thy power Display’d in this brief song. The characters, Vocal and consonant, were five-fold seven. In order each, as they appear’d, I mark’d. Diligite Justitiam, the first, Both verb and noun all blazon’d; and the extreme Qui judicatis terram. In the M. Of the fifth word they held their station, Making the star seem silver streak’d with gold. And on the summit of the M. I saw Descending other lights, that rested there, Singing, methinks, their bliss and primal good. Then, as at shaking of a lighted brand, Sparkles innumerable on all sides Rise scatter’d, source of augury to th’ unwise; Thus more than thousand twinkling lustres hence Seem’d reascending, and a higher pitch Some mounting, and some less; e’en as the sun, Which kindleth them, decreed. And when each one Had settled in his place, the head and neck Then saw I of an eagle, lively Grav’d in that streaky fire. Who painteth there, Hath none to guide him; of himself he guides; And every line and texture of the nest Doth own from him the virtue, fashions it. The other bright beatitude, that seem’d Erewhile, with lilied crowning, well content To over-canopy the M. mov’d forth, Following gently the impress of the bird.

Sweet star! what glorious and thick-studded gems Declar’d to me our justice on the earth To be the effluence of that heav’n, which thou, Thyself a costly jewel, dost inlay! Therefore I pray the Sovran Mind, from whom Thy motion and thy virtue are begun, That he would look from whence the fog doth rise, To vitiate thy beam: so that once more He may put forth his hand ’gainst such, as drive Their traffic in that sanctuary, whose walls With miracles and martyrdoms were built.

Ye host of heaven! whose glory I survey l O beg ye grace for those, that are on earth All after ill example gone astray. War once had for its instrument the sword: But now ’t is made, taking the bread away Which the good Father locks from none. —And thou, That writes but to cancel, think, that they, Who for the vineyard, which thou wastest, died, Peter and Paul live yet, and mark thy doings. Thou hast good cause to cry, “My heart so cleaves To him, that liv’d in solitude remote, And from the wilds was dragg’d to martyrdom, I wist not of the fisherman nor Paul.”

CANTO XIX

Before my sight appear’d, with open wings, The beauteous image, in fruition sweet Gladdening the thronged spirits. Each did seem A little ruby, whereon so intense The sun-beam glow’d that to mine eyes it came In clear refraction. And that, which next Befalls me to portray, voice hath not utter’d, Nor hath ink written, nor in fantasy Was e’er conceiv’d. For I beheld and heard The beak discourse; and, what intention form’d Of many, singly as of one express, Beginning: “For that I was just and piteous, l am exalted to this height of glory, The which no wish exceeds: and there on earth Have I my memory left, e’en by the bad Commended, while they leave its course untrod.”

Thus is one heat from many embers felt, As in that image many were the loves, And one the voice, that issued from them all. Whence I address them: “O perennial flowers Of gladness everlasting! that exhale In single breath your odours manifold! Breathe now; and let the hunger be appeas’d, That with great craving long hath held my soul, Finding no food on earth. This well I know, That if there be in heav’n a realm, that shows In faithful mirror the celestial Justice, Yours without veil reflects it. Ye discern The heed, wherewith I do prepare myself To hearken; ye the doubt that urges me With such inveterate craving.” Straight I saw, Like to a falcon issuing from the hood, That rears his head, and claps him with his wings, His beauty and his eagerness bewraying. So saw I move that stately sign, with praise Of grace divine inwoven and high song Of inexpressive joy. “He,” it began, “Who turn’d his compass on the world’s extreme, And in that space so variously hath wrought, Both openly, and in secret, in such wise Could not through all the universe display Impression of his glory, that the Word Of his omniscience should not still remain In infinite excess. In proof whereof, He first through pride supplanted, who was sum Of each created being, waited not For light celestial, and abortive fell. Whence needs each lesser nature is but scant Receptacle unto that Good, which knows No limit, measur’d by itself alone. Therefore your sight, of th’ omnipresent Mind A single beam, its origin must own Surpassing far its utmost potency. The ken, your world is gifted with, descends In th’ everlasting Justice as low down, As eye doth in the sea; which though it mark The bottom from the shore, in the wide main Discerns it not; and ne’ertheless it is, But hidden through its deepness. Light is none, Save that which cometh from the pure serene Of ne’er disturbed ether: for the rest, ’Tis darkness all, or shadow of the flesh, Or else its poison. Here confess reveal’d That covert, which hath hidden from thy search The living justice, of the which thou mad’st Such frequent question; for thou saidst—‘A man Is born on Indus’ banks, and none is there Who speaks of Christ, nor who doth read nor write, And all his inclinations and his acts, As far as human reason sees, are good, And he offendeth not in word or deed. But unbaptiz’d he dies, and void of faith. Where is the justice that condemns him? where His blame, if he believeth not?’—What then, And who art thou, that on the stool wouldst sit To judge at distance of a thousand miles With the short-sighted vision of a span? To him, who subtilizes thus with me, There would assuredly be room for doubt Even to wonder, did not the safe word Of scripture hold supreme authority.

“O animals of clay! O spirits gross I The primal will, that in itself is good, Hath from itself, the chief Good, ne’er been mov’d. Justice consists in consonance with it, Derivable by no created good, Whose very cause depends upon its beam.”

As on her nest the stork, that turns about Unto her young, whom lately she hath fed, While they with upward eyes do look