Part 171

My vision in the vastness and the height Lost not itself, but comprehended all The quantity and quality of that gladness.

There near and far nor add nor take away; For there where God immediately doth govern, The natural law in naught is relevant.

Into the yellow of the Rose Eternal That spreads, and multiplies, and breathes an odour Of praise unto the ever-vernal Sun,

As one who silent is and fain would speak, Me Beatrice drew on, and said: “Behold Of the white stoles how vast the convent is!

Behold how vast the circuit of our city! Behold our seats so filled to overflowing, That here henceforward are few people wanting!

On that great throne whereon thine eyes are fixed For the crown’s sake already placed upon it, Before thou suppest at this wedding feast

Shall sit the soul (that is to be Augustus On earth) of noble Henry, who shall come To redress Italy ere she be ready.

Blind covetousness, that casts its spell upon you, Has made you like unto the little child, Who dies of hunger and drives off the nurse.

And in the sacred forum then shall be A Prefect such, that openly or covert On the same road he will not walk with him.

But long of God he will not be endured In holy office; he shall be thrust down Where Simon Magus is for his deserts,

And make him of Alagna lower go!”

Paradiso: Canto XXXI

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.