Divine Comedy: Paradise | Page 4

me bent her
eyes, with such a look,
As on her frenzied child a mother casts;

Then thus began: "Among themselves all things
Have order; and
from hence the form, which makes
The universe resemble God. In
this
The higher creatures see the printed steps
Of that eternal worth,
which is the end
Whither the line is drawn. All natures lean,
In this
their order, diversely, some more,
Some less approaching to their
primal source.
Thus they to different havens are mov'd on
Through
the vast sea of being, and each one

With instinct giv'n, that bears it in

its course;
This to the lunar sphere directs the fire,
This prompts the
hearts of mortal animals,
This the brute earth together knits, and
binds.
Nor only creatures, void of intellect,
Are aim'd at by this bow;
hut even those,
That have intelligence and love, are pierc'd.
That
Providence, who so well orders all,
With her own light makes ever
calm the heaven,
In which the substance, that hath greatest speed,
Is
turn'd: and thither now, as to our seat
Predestin'd, we are carried by
the force
Of that strong cord, that never looses dart,
But at fair aim
and glad. Yet is it true,
That as ofttimes but ill accords the form
To
the design of art, through sluggishness
Of unreplying matter, so this
course
Is sometimes quitted by the creature, who
Hath power,
directed thus, to bend elsewhere;
As from a cloud the fire is seen to
fall,
From its original impulse warp'd, to earth,
By vicious fondness.
Thou no more admire
Thy soaring, (if I rightly deem,) than lapse
Of
torrent downwards from a mountain's height.
There would in thee for
wonder be more cause,
If, free of hind'rance, thou hadst fix'd thyself

Below, like fire unmoving on the earth."
So said, she turn'd toward the heav'n her face.
CANTO II
All ye, who in small bark have following sail'd,
Eager to listen, on the
advent'rous track
Of my proud keel, that singing cuts its way,

Backward return with speed, and your own shores
Revisit, nor put out
to open sea,
Where losing me, perchance ye may remain
Bewilder'd
in deep maze. The way I pass
Ne'er yet was run: Minerva breathes the
gale,
Apollo guides me, and another Nine
To my rapt sight the
arctic beams reveal.
Ye other few, who have outstretch'd the neck.

Timely for food of angels, on which here
They live, yet never know
satiety,
Through the deep brine ye fearless may put out
Your vessel,
marking, well the furrow broad
Before you in the wave, that on both
sides
Equal returns. Those, glorious, who pass'd o'er
To Colchos,
wonder'd not as ye will do,
When they saw Jason following the

plough.
The increate perpetual thirst, that draws
Toward the realm of God's
own form, bore us
Swift almost as the heaven ye behold.
Beatrice upward gaz'd, and I on her,
And in such space as on the
notch a dart
Is plac'd, then loosen'd flies, I saw myself
Arriv'd,
where wond'rous thing engag'd my sight.
Whence she, to whom no
work of mine was hid,
Turning to me, with aspect glad as fair,

Bespake me: "Gratefully direct thy mind
To God, through whom to
this first star we come."
Me seem'd as if a cloud had cover'd us,
Translucent, solid, firm, and
polish'd bright,
Like adamant, which the sun's beam had smit

Within itself the ever-during pearl
Receiv'd us, as the wave a ray of
light
Receives, and rests unbroken. If I then
Was of corporeal frame,
and it transcend
Our weaker thought, how one dimension thus

Another could endure, which needs must be
If body enter body, how
much more
Must the desire inflame us to behold
That essence,
which discovers by what means
God and our nature join'd! There will
be seen
That which we hold through faith, not shown by proof,
But
in itself intelligibly plain,
E'en as the truth that man at first believes.
I answered: "Lady! I with thoughts devout,
Such as I best can frame,
give thanks to Him,
Who hath remov'd me from the mortal world.

But tell, I pray thee, whence the gloomy spots
Upon this body, which
below on earth
Give rise to talk of Cain in fabling quaint?"
She somewhat smil'd, then spake: "If mortals err
In their opinion,
when the key of sense
Unlocks not, surely wonder's weapon keen

Ought not to pierce thee; since thou find'st, the wings
Of reason to
pursue the senses' flight
Are short. But what thy own thought is,
declare."

Then I: "What various here above appears,
Is caus'd, I deem, by
bodies dense or rare."
She then resum'd: "Thou certainly wilt see
In falsehood thy belief
o'erwhelm'd, if well
Thou listen to the arguments, which I
Shall
bring to face it. The eighth sphere displays
Numberless lights, the
which in kind and size
May be remark'd of different aspects;
If rare
or dense of that were cause alone,
One single virtue then would be in
all,
Alike distributed, or more, or less.
Different virtues needs must
be the fruits
Of formal principles, and these, save one,
Will by thy
reasoning be destroy'd. Beside,
If rarity were of that dusk the cause,

Which thou inquirest, either in some part
That planet must
throughout be void, nor fed
With its own matter; or, as bodies share

Their fat and leanness, in like manner this
Must in its volume