CANTO XXIXSinging, as if enamour’d, she resum’dAnd clos’d the song, with “Blessed they whose sinsAre cover’d.” Like the wood-nymphs then, that tripp’dSingly across the sylvan shadows, oneEager to view and one to ’scape the sun,So mov’d she on, against the current, upThe verdant rivage. I, her mincing stepObserving, with as tardy step pursued.Between us not an hundred paces trod,The bank, on each side bending equally,Gave me to face the orient. Nor our wayFar onward brought us, when to me at onceShe turn’d, and cried: “My brother! look and hearken.”And lo! a sudden lustre ran acrossThrough the great forest on all parts, so brightI doubted whether lightning were abroad;But that expiring ever in the spleen,That doth unfold it, and this during stillAnd waxing still in splendor, made me questionWhat it might be: and a sweet melodyRan through the luminous air. Then did I chideWith warrantable zeal the hardihoodOf our first parent, for that there were earthStood in obedience to the heav’ns, she only,Woman, the creature of an hour, endur’d notRestraint of any veil: which had she borneDevoutly, joys, ineffable as these,Had from the first, and long time since, been mine.While through that wilderness of primy sweetsThat never fade, suspense I walk’d, and yetExpectant of beatitude more high,Before us, like a blazing fire, the airUnder the green boughs glow’d; and, for a song,Distinct the sound of melody was heard.O ye thrice holy virgins! for your sakesIf e’er I suffer’d hunger, cold and watching,Occasion calls on me to crave your bounty.Now through my breast let Helicon his streamPour copious; and Urania with her choirArise to aid me: while the verse unfoldsThings that do almost mock the grasp of thought.Onward a space, what seem’d seven trees of gold,The intervening distance to mine eyeFalsely presented; but when I was comeSo near them, that no lineament was lostOf those, with which a doubtful object, seenRemotely, plays on the misdeeming sense,Then did the faculty, that ministersDiscourse to reason, these for tapers of goldDistinguish, and it th’ singing trace the sound“Hosanna.” Above, their beauteous garnitureFlam’d with more ample lustre, than the moonThrough cloudless sky at midnight in her full.I turn’d me full of wonder to my guide;And he did answer with a countenanceCharg’d with no less amazement: whence my viewReverted to those lofty things, which cameSo slowly moving towards us, that the brideWould have outstript them on her bridal day.The lady called aloud: “Why thus yet burnsAffection 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, cloth’dWith raiment of such whiteness, as on earthWas never. On my left, the wat’ry gleamBorrow’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 edgeSuch station, that the distance of the streamAlone did separate me; there I stay’dMy steps for clearer prospect, and beheldThe flames go onward, leaving, as they went,The air behind them painted as with trailOf liveliest pencils! so distinct were mark’dAll those sev’n listed colours, whence the sunMaketh his bow, and Cynthia her zone.These streaming gonfalons did flow beyondMy vision; and ten paces, as I guess,Parted the outermost. Beneath a skySo beautiful, came foul and-twenty elders,By two and two, with flower-de-luces crown’d.All sang one song: “Blessed be thou amongThe daughters of Adam! and thy lovelinessBlessed for ever!” After that the flowers,And the fresh herblets, on the opposite brink,Were free from that elected race; as lightIn heav’n doth second light, came after themFour animals, each crown’d with verdurous leaf.With six wings each was plum’d, the plumage fullOf eyes, and th’ eyes of Argus would be such,Were they endued with life. Reader, more rhymesWill not waste in shadowing forth their form:For other need no straitens, that in thisI may not give my bounty room. But readEzekiel; for he paints them, from the northHow he beheld them come by Chebar’s flood,In whirlwind, cloud and fire; and even suchAs thou shalt find them character’d by him,Here were they; save as to the pennons; there,From him departing, John accords with me.The space, surrounded by the four, enclos’dA car triumphal: on two wheels it cameDrawn at a Gryphon’s neck; and he aboveStretch’d either wing uplifted, ’tween the midstAnd 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, farAs he was bird, were golden; white the restWith vermeil intervein’d. So beautifulA car in Rome ne’er grac’d Augustus pomp,Or Africanus’: e’en the sun’s itselfWere poor to this, that chariot of the sunErroneous, which in blazing ruin fellAt Tellus’ pray’r devout, by the just doomMysterious of all-seeing Jove. Three nymphsat the right wheel, came circling in smooth dance;The one so ruddy, that her form had scarceBeen known within a furnace of clear flame:The next did look, as if the flesh and bonesWere 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 tookTheir treasure, swift or slow. At th’ other wheel,A band quaternion, each in purple clad,Advanc’d with festal step, as of them oneThe rest conducted, one, upon whose frontThree eyes were seen. In rear of all this group,Two old men I beheld, dissimilarIn raiment, but in port and gesture like,Solid and mainly grave; of whom the oneDid show himself some favour’d counsellorOf the great Coan, him, whom nature madeTo serve the costliest creature of her tribe.His fellow mark’d an opposite intent,Bearing a sword, whose glitterance and keen edge,E’en as I view’d it with the flood between,Appall’d me. Next four others I beheld,Of humble seeming: and, behind them all,One single old man, sleeping, as he came,With a shrewd visage. And these seven, eachLike the first troop were habited, but woreNo braid of lilies on their temples wreath’d.Rather with roses and each vermeil flower,A sight, but little distant, might have sworn,That they were all on fire above their brow.Whenas the car was o’er against me, straight.Was heard a thund’ring, at whose voice it seem’dThe chosen multitude were stay’d; for there,With the first ensigns, made they solemn halt.
Singing, as if enamour’d, she resum’dAnd clos’d the song, with “Blessed they whose sinsAre cover’d.” Like the wood-nymphs then, that tripp’dSingly across the sylvan shadows, oneEager to view and one to ’scape the sun,So mov’d she on, against the current, upThe verdant rivage. I, her mincing stepObserving, with as tardy step pursued.
Between us not an hundred paces trod,The bank, on each side bending equally,Gave me to face the orient. Nor our wayFar onward brought us, when to me at onceShe turn’d, and cried: “My brother! look and hearken.”And lo! a sudden lustre ran acrossThrough the great forest on all parts, so brightI doubted whether lightning were abroad;But that expiring ever in the spleen,That doth unfold it, and this during stillAnd waxing still in splendor, made me questionWhat it might be: and a sweet melodyRan through the luminous air. Then did I chideWith warrantable zeal the hardihoodOf our first parent, for that there were earthStood in obedience to the heav’ns, she only,Woman, the creature of an hour, endur’d notRestraint of any veil: which had she borneDevoutly, joys, ineffable as these,Had from the first, and long time since, been mine.
While through that wilderness of primy sweetsThat never fade, suspense I walk’d, and yetExpectant of beatitude more high,Before us, like a blazing fire, the airUnder the green boughs glow’d; and, for a song,Distinct the sound of melody was heard.
O ye thrice holy virgins! for your sakesIf e’er I suffer’d hunger, cold and watching,Occasion calls on me to crave your bounty.Now through my breast let Helicon his streamPour copious; and Urania with her choirArise to aid me: while the verse unfoldsThings that do almost mock the grasp of thought.
Onward a space, what seem’d seven trees of gold,The intervening distance to mine eyeFalsely presented; but when I was comeSo near them, that no lineament was lostOf those, with which a doubtful object, seenRemotely, plays on the misdeeming sense,Then did the faculty, that ministersDiscourse to reason, these for tapers of goldDistinguish, and it th’ singing trace the sound“Hosanna.” Above, their beauteous garnitureFlam’d with more ample lustre, than the moonThrough cloudless sky at midnight in her full.
I turn’d me full of wonder to my guide;And he did answer with a countenanceCharg’d with no less amazement: whence my viewReverted to those lofty things, which cameSo slowly moving towards us, that the brideWould have outstript them on her bridal day.
The lady called aloud: “Why thus yet burnsAffection 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, cloth’dWith raiment of such whiteness, as on earthWas never. On my left, the wat’ry gleamBorrow’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 edgeSuch station, that the distance of the streamAlone did separate me; there I stay’dMy steps for clearer prospect, and beheldThe flames go onward, leaving, as they went,The air behind them painted as with trailOf liveliest pencils! so distinct were mark’dAll those sev’n listed colours, whence the sunMaketh his bow, and Cynthia her zone.These streaming gonfalons did flow beyondMy vision; and ten paces, as I guess,Parted the outermost. Beneath a skySo beautiful, came foul and-twenty elders,By two and two, with flower-de-luces crown’d.
All sang one song: “Blessed be thou amongThe daughters of Adam! and thy lovelinessBlessed for ever!” After that the flowers,And the fresh herblets, on the opposite brink,Were free from that elected race; as lightIn heav’n doth second light, came after themFour animals, each crown’d with verdurous leaf.With six wings each was plum’d, the plumage fullOf eyes, and th’ eyes of Argus would be such,Were they endued with life. Reader, more rhymesWill not waste in shadowing forth their form:For other need no straitens, that in thisI may not give my bounty room. But readEzekiel; for he paints them, from the northHow he beheld them come by Chebar’s flood,In whirlwind, cloud and fire; and even suchAs thou shalt find them character’d by him,Here were they; save as to the pennons; there,From him departing, John accords with me.
The space, surrounded by the four, enclos’dA car triumphal: on two wheels it cameDrawn at a Gryphon’s neck; and he aboveStretch’d either wing uplifted, ’tween the midstAnd 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, farAs he was bird, were golden; white the restWith vermeil intervein’d. So beautifulA car in Rome ne’er grac’d Augustus pomp,Or Africanus’: e’en the sun’s itselfWere poor to this, that chariot of the sunErroneous, which in blazing ruin fellAt Tellus’ pray’r devout, by the just doomMysterious of all-seeing Jove. Three nymphsat the right wheel, came circling in smooth dance;The one so ruddy, that her form had scarceBeen known within a furnace of clear flame:The next did look, as if the flesh and bonesWere 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 tookTheir treasure, swift or slow. At th’ other wheel,A band quaternion, each in purple clad,Advanc’d with festal step, as of them oneThe rest conducted, one, upon whose frontThree eyes were seen. In rear of all this group,Two old men I beheld, dissimilarIn raiment, but in port and gesture like,Solid and mainly grave; of whom the oneDid show himself some favour’d counsellorOf the great Coan, him, whom nature madeTo serve the costliest creature of her tribe.His fellow mark’d an opposite intent,Bearing a sword, whose glitterance and keen edge,E’en as I view’d it with the flood between,Appall’d me. Next four others I beheld,Of humble seeming: and, behind them all,One single old man, sleeping, as he came,With a shrewd visage. And these seven, eachLike the first troop were habited, but woreNo braid of lilies on their temples wreath’d.Rather with roses and each vermeil flower,A sight, but little distant, might have sworn,That they were all on fire above their brow.
Whenas the car was o’er against me, straight.Was heard a thund’ring, at whose voice it seem’dThe chosen multitude were stay’d; for there,With the first ensigns, made they solemn halt.