Part 149

And such as is the change, in little lapse Of time, in a pale woman, when her face Is from the load of bashfulness unladen,

Such was it in mine eyes, when I had turned, Caused by the whiteness of the temperate star, The sixth, which to itself had gathered me.

Within that Jovial torch did I behold The sparkling of the love which was therein Delineate our language to mine eyes.

And even as birds uprisen from the shore, As in congratulation o’er their food, Make squadrons of themselves, now round, now long,

So from within those lights the holy creatures Sang flying to and fro, and in their figures Made of themselves now D, now I, now L.

First singing they to their own music moved; Then one becoming of these characters, A little while they rested and were silent.

O divine Pegasea, thou who genius Dost glorious make, and render it long-lived, And this through thee the cities and the kingdoms,

Illume me with thyself, that I may bring Their figures out as I have them conceived! Apparent be thy power in these brief verses!

Themselves then they displayed in five times seven Vowels and consonants; and I observed The parts as they seemed spoken unto me.

‘Diligite justitiam,’ these were First verb and noun of all that was depicted; ‘Qui judicatis terram’ were the last.

Thereafter in the M of the fifth word Remained they so arranged, that Jupiter Seemed to be silver there with gold inlaid.

And other lights I saw descend where was The summit of the M, and pause there singing The good, I think, that draws them to itself.

Then, as in striking upon burning logs Upward there fly innumerable sparks, Whence fools are wont to look for auguries,

More than a thousand lights seemed thence to rise, And to ascend, some more, and others less, Even as the Sun that lights them had allotted;

And, each one being quiet in its place, The head and neck beheld I of an eagle Delineated by that inlaid fire.

He who there paints has none to be his guide; But Himself guides; and is from Him remembered That virtue which is form unto the nest.

The other beatitude, that contented seemed At first to bloom a lily on the M, By a slight motion followed out the imprint.

O gentle star! what and how many gems Did demonstrate to me, that all our justice Effect is of that heaven which thou ingemmest!

Wherefore I pray the Mind, in which begin Thy motion and thy virtue, to regard Whence comes the smoke that vitiates thy rays;

So that a second time it now be wroth With buying and with selling in the temple Whose walls were built with signs and martyrdoms!

O soldiery of heaven, whom I contemplate, Implore for those who are upon the earth All gone astray after the bad example!

Once ’twas the custom to make war with swords; But now ’tis made by taking here and there The bread the pitying Father shuts from none.

Yet thou, who writest but to cancel, think That Peter and that Paul, who for this vineyard Which thou art spoiling died, are still alive!

Well canst thou say: “So steadfast my desire Is unto him who willed to live alone, And for a dance was led to martyrdom,

That I know not the Fisherman nor Paul.”

Paradiso: Canto XIX

Appeared before me with its wings outspread The beautiful image that in sweet fruition Made jubilant the interwoven souls;

Appeared a little ruby each, wherein Ray of the sun was burning so enkindled That each into mine eyes refracted it.