| |
| SINGING, as if enamour’d, she resumed | |
| And closed the song, with “Blessed they 1 whose sins | |
| Are cover’d.” Like the wood-nymphs then, that | |
| Singly across the sylvan shadows; one [tripp’d | |
| Eager to view, and one to escape the sun; | 5 |
| So moved she on, against the current, up | |
| The verdant rivage. I, her mincing step | |
| Observing, with as tardy step pursued. | |
| Between us not an hundred paces trod, | |
| The bank, on each side bending equally, | 10 |
| Gave me to face the orient. Nor our way | |
| Far onward brought us, when to me at once | |
| She turn’d, and cried: “My brother! look, and hearken.” | |
| And lo! a sudden lustre ran across | |
| Through the great forest on all parts, so bright, | 15 |
| I doubted whether lightning were abroad; | |
| But that, expiring ever in the spleen | |
| That doth unfold it, and this during still, | |
| And waxing still in splendour, made me question | |
| What it might be: and a sweet melody | 20 |
| Ran through the luminous air. Then did I chide, | |
| With warrantable zeal, the hardihood | |
| Of our first, parent; for that there, where earth, | |
| Stood in obedience to the Heavens, she only, | |
| Woman, the creature of an hour, endured not | 25 |
| Restraint of any veil, which had she borne | |
| Devoutly, joys, ineffable as these, | |
| Had from the first, and long time since, been mine. | |
| While, through that wilderness of primly sweets | |
| That never fade, suspense I walk’d, and yet | 30 |
| Expectant of beatitude more high; | |
| Before us, like a blazing fire, the air | |
| Under the green boughs glow’d; and, for a song, | |
| Distinct the sound of melody was heard. | |
| O ye thrice holy virgins! for your sakes | 35 |
| If e’er I suffer’d hunger, cold, and watching, | |
| Occasion calls on me to crave your bounty. | |
| Now through my breast let Helicon his stream | |
| Pour copious, and Urania 2 with her choir | |
| Arise to aid me; while the verse unfolds | 40 |
| Things, that do almost mock the grasp of thought. | |
| Onward a space, what seem’d seven trees of gold | |
| The intervening distance to mine eye | |
| Falsely presented; but, when I was come | |
| So near them, that no lineament was lost | 45 |
| Of those, with which a doubtful object, seen | |
| Remotely, plays on the misdeeming sense; | |
| Then did the faculty, that ministers | |
| Discourse to reason, these for tapers of gold 3 | |
| Distinguish; and i’ the singing trace the sound | 50 |
| “Hosanna!” Above, their beauteous garniture | |
| Flamed with more ample lustre, than the moon | |
| Through cloudless sky at midnight, in her noon. | |
| I turn’d me, full of wonder, to my guide; | |
| And he did answer with a countenance | 55 |
| Charged with no less amazement: whence my view | |
| Reverted to those lofty things, which came | |
| So slowly moving toward us, that the bride | |
| Would have outstript them on her bridal day. | |
| The lady call’d aloud: “Why thus yet burns | 60 |
| Affection in thee for these living lights, | |
| And dost not look on that which follows them?” | |
| I straightway mark’d a tribe behind them walk, | |
| As if attendant on their leaders, clothed | |
| With raiment of such whiteness, as on earth | 65 |
| Was never. On my left, the watery gleam | |
| Borrow’d, and gave me back, when there I look’d, | |
| As in a mirror, my left side portray’d. | |
| When I had chosen on the river’s edge | |
| Such station, that the distance of the stream | 70 |
| Alone did separate me; there I stay’d | |
| My steps for clearer prospect, and beheld | |
| The flames go onward, leaving, as they went, | |
| The air behind them painted as with trail | |
| Of liveliest pencils; so distinct were mark’d | 75 |
| All those seven listed colours, whence the sun | |
| Maketh his bow, and Cynthia her zone. | |
| These streaming gonfalons did flow beyond | |
| My vision; and ten paces, as I guess, | |
| Parted the outermost. Beneath a sky | 80 |
| So beautiful, came four and twenty elders 4, | |
| By two and two, with flower-de-luces crown’d. | |
| All sang one song: “Blessed be thou 5 among | |
| The daughters of Adam! and thy loveliness | |
| Blessed forever!” After that the flowers, | 85 |
| And the fresh herblets, on the opposite brink, | |
| Were free from that elected race; as light | |
| In heaven doth second light, came after them | |
| Four 6 animals, each crown’d with verdurous leaf. | |
| With six wings each was plumed; the plumage full | 90 |
| Of eyes; and the eyes of Argus would be such, | |
| Were they endued with life. Reader! more rhymes | |
| I will not waste in shadowing forth their form: | |
| For other need so straitens, that in this | |
| I may not give my bounty room. But read | 95 |
| Ezekiel; 7 for he paints them, from the north | |
| How he beheld them come by Chebar’s flood, | |
| In whirlwind, cloud, and fire; and even such | |
| As thou shalt find them character’d by him, | |
| Here were they; save as to the pennons: there, | 100 |
| From him departing, John 8 accords with me. | |
| The space, surrounded by the four, enclosed | |
| A car triumphal: 9 on two wheels it came, | |
| Drawn at a Gryphon’s 10 neck; and he above | |
| Stretch’d either wing uplifted, ’tween the midst | 105 |
| And the three listed hues, on each side, three; | |
| So that the wings did cleave or injure none; | |
| And out of sight they rose. The members, far | |
| As he was bird, were golden; white the rest, | |
| with vermeil interven’d. So beautiful | 110 |
| A car, in Rome, ne’er graced Augustus’ pomp, | |
| Or Africanus’: e’en the sun’s itself | |
| Were poor to this; that chariot of the sun, | |
| Erroneous, which in blazing ruin fell | |
| At Tellus’ prayer devout, by the just doom | 115 |
| Mysterious of all-seeing Jove. Three nymphs 11, | |
| At the right wheel, came circling in smooth dance: | |
| The one so ruddy, that her form had scarce | |
| Been known within a furnace of clear flame; | |
| The next did look, as if the flesh and bones | 120 |
| Were emerald; snow new-fallen seem’d the third. | |
| Now seem’d the white to lead, the ruddy now; | |
| And from her song who led, the others took | |
| Their measure, swift or slow. At the other wheel, | |
| A band quaternion 12, each in purple clad, | 125 |
| Advanced with festal step, as, of them, one | |
| The rest conducted; 13 one, upon whose front | |
| Three eyes were seen. In rear of all this group, | |
| Two old men 14 I beheld, dissimilar | |
| In raiment, but in port and gesture like, | 130 |
| Solid and mainly grave; of whom, the one | |
| Did show himself some favor’d counsellor | |
| Of the great Coan, 15 him, whom nature made | |
| To serve the costliest creature of her tribe: | |
| His fellow mark’d an opposite intent; | 135 |
| Bearing a sword, whose glitterance and keen edge, | |
| E’en as I viewed it with the flood between, | |
| Appall’d me. Next, four others 16 I beheld | |
| Of humble seeming: and, behind them all, | |
| One single old man, 17 sleeping as he came, | 140 |
| With a shrewd visage. And these seven, each | |
| Like the first troop were habited; but wore | |
| No braid of lilies on their temples wreathed. | |
| Rather, with roses and each vermeil flower, | |
| A sight, but little distant, might have sworn, | 145 |
| That they were all on fire above their brow. | |
| Whenas the car was o’er against me, straight | |
| Was heard a thundering, at whose voice it seem’d | |
| The chosen multitude were stay’d; for there, | |
| With the first ensigns, made they solemn halt. | 150 |
