The Divine Comedy by Dante Alighieri (10 best books of all time txt) đ
- Author: Dante Alighieri
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And with such figuring of Paradise The sacred strain must leap, like one, that meets A sudden interruption to his road.
But he, who thinks how ponderous the theme, And that ât is lain upon a mortal shoulder, May pardon, if it tremble with the burden.
The track, our ventrous keel must furrow, brooks No unribbâd pinnace, no self-sparing pilot.
âWhy doth my face,â said Beatrice, âthus Enamour thee, as that thou dost not turn Unto the beautiful garden, blossoming Beneath the rays of Christ? Here is the rose, Wherein the word divine was made incarnate; And here the lilies, by whose odour known The way of life was followâd.â Prompt I heard Her bidding, and encounter once again The strife of aching vision. As erewhile, Through glance of sunlight, streamâd through broken cloud, Mine eyes a flower-besprinkled mead have seen, Though veilâd themselves in shade; so saw I there Legions of splendours, on whom burning rays Shed lightnings from above, yet saw I not The fountain whence they flowâd. O gracious virtue!
Thou, whose broad stamp is on them, higher up Thou didst exalt thy glory to give room To my oâerlabourâd sight: when at the name Of that fair flower, whom duly I invoke Both morn and eve, my soul, with all her might Collected, on the goodliest ardour fixâd.
And, as the bright dimensions of the star In heavân excelling, as once here on earth Were, in my eyeballs lively portrayâd, Lo! from within the sky a cresset fell, Circling in fashion of a diadem,
And girt the star, and hovâring round it wheelâd.
Whatever melody sounds sweetest here, And draws the spirit most unto itself, Might seem a rent cloud when it grates the thunder, Comparâd unto the sounding of that lyre, Wherewith the goodliest sapphire, that inlays The floor of heavân, was crownâd. â Angelic Love I am, who thus with hovâring flight enwheel The lofty rapture from that womb inspirâd, Where our desire did dwell: and round thee so, Lady of Heavân! will hover; long as thou Thy Son shalt follow, and diviner joy Shall from thy presence gild the highest sphere.â
Such close was to the circling melody: And, as it ended, all the other lights Took up the strain, and echoed Maryâs name.
The robe, that with its regal folds enwraps The world, and with the nearer breath of God Doth burn and quiver, held so far retirâd Its inner hem and skirting over us, That yet no glimmer of its majesty Had streamâd unto me: therefore were mine eyes Unequal to pursue the crowned flame, That rose and sought its natal seed of fire; And like to babe, that stretches forth its arms For very eagerness towards the breast, After the milk is taken; so outstretchâd Their wavy summits all the fervent band, Through zealous love to Mary: then in view There halted, and âRegina Coeli â sang So sweetly, the delight hath left me never.
O what oâerflowing plenty is up-pilâd In those rich-laden coffers, which below Sowâd the good seed, whose harvest now they keep.
Here are the treasures tasted, that with tears Were in the Babylonian exile won,
When gold had failâd them. Here in synod high Of ancient council with the new convenâd, Under the Son of Mary and of God,
Victorious he his mighty triumph holds, To whom the keys of glory were assignâd.
CANTO XXIV
âO ye! in chosen fellowship advancâd To the great supper of the blessed Lamb, Whereon who feeds hath every wish fulfillâd!
If to this man through Godâs grace be vouchsafâd Foretaste of that, which from your table falls, Or ever death his fated term prescribe; Be ye not heedless of his urgent will; But may some influence of your sacred dews Sprinkle him. Of the fount ye alway drink, Whence flows what most he craves.â Beatrice spake, And the rejoicing spirits, like to spheres On firm-set poles revolving, trailâd a blaze Of comet splendour; and as wheels, that wind Their circles in the horologe, so work The stated rounds, that to thâ observant eye The first seems still, and, as it flew, the last; Eâen thus their carols weaving variously, They by the measure pacâd, or swift, or slow, Made me to rate the riches of their joy.
From that, which I did note in beauty most Excelling, saw I issue forth a flame So bright, as none was left more goodly there.
Round Beatrice thrice it wheelâd about, With so divine a song, that fancyâs ear Records it not; and the pen passeth on And leaves a blank: for that our mortal speech, Nor eâen the inward shaping of the brain, Hath colours fine enough to trace such folds.
âO saintly sister mine! thy prayer devout Is with so vehement affection urgâd, Thou dost unbind me from that beauteous sphere.â
Such were the accents towards my lady breathâd From that blest ardour, soon as it was stayâd: To whom she thus: âO everlasting light Of him, within whose mighty grasp our Lord Did leave the keys, which of this wondrous bliss He bare below! tent this man, as thou wilt, With lighter probe or deep, touching the faith, By the which thou didst on the billows walk.
If he in love, in hope, and in belief, Be steadfast, is not hid from thee: for thou Hast there thy ken, where all things are beheld In liveliest portraiture. But since true faith Has peopled this fair realm with citizens, Meet is, that to exalt its glory more, Thou in his audience shouldst thereof discourse.â
Like to the bachelor, who arms himself, And speaks not, till the master have proposâd The question, to approve, and not to end it; So I, in silence, armâd me, while she spake, Summoning up each argument to aid; As was behooveful for such questioner, And such profession: âAs good Christian ought, Declare thee, What is faith?â Whereat I raisâd My forehead to the light, whence this had breathâd, Then turnâd to Beatrice, and in her looks Approval met, that from their inmost fount I should unlock the waters. âMay the grace, That giveth me the captain of the church For confessor,â said I, âvouchsafe to me Apt utterance for my thoughts!â then added: âSire!
Eâen as set down by the unerring style Of thy dear brother, who with thee conspirâd To bring Rome in unto the way of life, Faith of things hopâd is substance, and the proof Of things not seen; and herein doth consist Methinks its essence,âââ Rightly hast thou deemâd,â
Was answerâd: âif thou well discern, why first He hath definâd it, substance, and then proof.â
âThe deep things,â I replied, âwhich here I scan Distinctly, are below from mortal eye So hidden, they have in belief alone Their being, on which credence hope sublime Is built; and therefore substance it intends.
And inasmuch as we must needs infer From such belief our reasoning, all respect To other view excluded, hence of proof Thâ intention is derivâd.â Forthwith I heard: âIf thus, whateâer by learning men attain, Were understood, the sophist would want room To exercise his wit.â So breathâd the flame Of love: then added: âCurrent is the coin Thou utterâst, both in weight and in alloy.
But tell me, if thou hast it in thy purse.â
âEven so glittering and so round,â said I, âI not a whit misdoubt of its assay.â
Next issued from the deep imbosomâd splendour: âSay, whence the costly jewel, on the which Is founded every virtue, came to thee.â
âThe flood,â I answerâd, âfrom the Spirit of God Rainâd down upon the ancient bond and new,â
Here is the reasâning, that convinceth me So feelingly, each argument beside Seems blunt and forceless in comparison.â
Then heard I: âWherefore holdest thou that each, The elder proposition and the new, Which so persuade thee, are the voice of heavân?â
âThe works, that followâd, evidence their truth; â
I answerâd: âNature did not make for these The iron hot, or on her anvil mould them.â
âWho voucheth to thee of the works themselves, Was the reply, âthat they in very deed Are that they purport? None hath sworn so to thee.â
âThat all the world,â said I, âshould have bee turnâd To Christian, and no miracle been wrought, Would in itself be such a miracle, The rest were not an hundredth part so great.
Eâen thou wentst forth in poverty and hunger To set the goodly plant, that from the vine, It once was, now is grown unsightly bramble.â
That ended, through the high celestial court Resounded all the spheres. âPraise we one God!â
In song of most unearthly melody.
And when that Worthy thus, from branch to branch, Examining, had led me, that we now Approachâd the topmost bough, he straight resumâd; âThe grace, that holds sweet dalliance with thy soul, So far discreetly hath thy lips unclosâd That, whatsoeâer has past them, I commend.
Behooves thee to express, what thou believâst, The next, and whereon thy belief hath grown.â
âO saintly sire and spirit!â I began, âWho seest that, which thou didst so believe, As to outstrip feet younger than thine own, Toward the sepulchre? thy will is here, That I the tenour of my creed unfold; And thou the cause of it hast likewise askâd.
And I reply: I in one God believe, One sole eternal Godhead, of whose love All heavân is movâd, himself unmovâd the while.
Nor demonstration physical alone,
Or more intelligential and abstruse, Persuades me to this faith; but from that truth It cometh to me rather, which is shed Through Moses, the rapt Prophets, and the Psalms.
The Gospel, and that ye yourselves did write, When ye were gifted of the Holy Ghost.
In three eternal Persons I believe, Essence threefold and one, mysterious league Of union absolute, which, many a time, The word of gospel lore upon my mind Imprints: and from this germ, this firstling spark, The lively flame dilates, and like heavânâs star Doth glitter in me.â As the master hears, Well pleasâd, and then enfoldeth in his arms The servant, who hath joyful tidings brought, And having told the errand keeps his peace; Thus benediction uttering with song Soon as my peace I held, compassâd me thrice The apostolic radiance, whose behest Had opâd lips; so well their answer pleasâd.
CANTO XXV
If eâer the sacred poem that hath made Both heavân and earth copartners in its toil, And with lean abstinence, through many a year, Faded my brow, be destinâd to prevail Over the cruelty, which bars me forth Of the fair sheep-fold, where a sleeping lamb The wolves set on and fain had worried me, With other voice and fleece of other grain I shall forthwith return, and, standing up At my baptismal font, shall claim the wreath Due to the poetâs temples: for I there First enterâd on the faith which maketh souls Acceptable to God: and, for its sake, Peter had then circled my forehead thus.
Next from the squadron, whence had issued forth The first fruit of Christâs vicars on the earth, Toward us movâd a light, at view whereof My Lady, full of gladness, spake to me: âLo! lo! behold the peer of mickle might, That makes Falicia throngâd with visitants!â
As when the ring-dove by his mate alights, In circles each about the other wheels, And murmuring cooes his fondness; thus saw I One, of the other great and glorious prince, With kindly greeting hailâd, extolling both Their heavenly banqueting; but when an end Was to their gratulation, silent, each, Before me sat they down, so burning bright, I could not look upon them. Smiling then, Beatrice spake: âO life in glory shrinâd!â
Who didst the largess of our kingly court Set
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