PARADISO. CANTO I. THE glory of Him who moveth everything Within that heaven which most his light receives Nor knows, nor can, who from above descends; Because in drawing near to its desire Our intellect ingulphs itself so far, That after it the memory cannot go. Truly whatever of the holy realm I had the power to treasure in my mind Shall now become the subject of O good Apollo, for this last emprise my song. Make of me such a vessel of thy power One summit of Parnassus hitherto Has been enough for me, but now with both I needs must enter the arena left. Enter into my bosom, thou, and breathe As at the time when Marsyas thou didst draw Out of the scabbard of those limbs of his. O power divine, lend'st thou thyself to me Stamped in my brain I can make manifest, Thou 'lt see me come unto thy darling tree, 20 25 And crown myself thereafter with those leaves So seldom, Father, do we gather them For triumph or of Cæsar or of Poet, (The fault and shame of human inclinations,) 30 That the Peneian foliage should bring forth Joy to the joyous Delphic deity, When any one it makes to thirst for it. A little spark is followed by great flame; Perchance with better voices after me Shall prayer be made that Cyrrha may respond! To mortal men by passages diverse Uprises the world's lamp; but by that one Which circles four uniteth with three crosses, 35 With better course and with a better star Conjoined it issues, and the mundane wax Tempers and stamps more after its own fashion. Almost that passage had made morning there And evening here, and there was wholly white I saw turned round, and gazing at the sun; And even as a second ray is wont To issue from the first and reascend, Like to a pilgrim who would fain return, Thus of her action, through the eyes infused In my imagination, mine I made, And sunward fixed mine eyes beyond our wont. There much is lawful which is here unlawful Unto our powers, by virtue of the place Made for the human species as its own. Not long I bore it, nor so little while But I beheld it sparkle round about 40 45 50 55 Like iron that comes molten from the fire; 60 And suddenly it seemed that day to day Was added, as if He who has the power |