Purgatorio: Canto XXVII

Even as when he darts his earliest rays
There where his Maker shed for us His blood,
While Ebro's stream 'neath lofty Libra stays.

And Ganges feels its heat at noon renewed.
So stood the sun; and thus the day was o'er,'
When God's great angel glad before us stood.

Outside the flame, toward the edge he bore.
And then " Beati mundo corde " sang.
With voice that had of life than ours far more.

And then, " No path is here unless the pang
Of fire ye feel, O holy souls; pass on.
Not deaf to that clear song that yonder rang."

So spake he, as more near approach we won;
Wherefore I then became, when him I heard,
As one who in a sepulchre is thrown.

Then I bent forward, with clasped hands upreared,
On the fire gazing, picturing in my mind
Men's bodies I had seen all burnt and seared;

And then towards me my good Guides inclined.
And Virgil said, " My son, here pain may be,
And torment, but death here thou shalt not find.

Bethink thee, yea, bethink thee; if in me
Thou, e'en on Geryon, foundest trusty guide.
What shall I do now God more near I see?

Be well assured that, should'st thou here abide
Within this womb of flame a thousand year,
No loss of e'en one hair should thee betide;

And if perchance to cheat thee I appear.
Draw nigh and with thine hands the trial make
Upon the garment's fringe that thou dost wear.

Forsake all fear, yea, every fear forsake;
Turn thee to it, and enter free from care."
I stood, nor did as guide my conscience take.

And when he saw me fixed and hard stand there,
A little vexed, he said, " Now look, my son,
This wall parts thee from Beatrice fair."

As Pyramus the name of Thisbe won
To ope his eyes in death and look on her,
Then when the mulberry grew vermilion.

So then, my hardness melted, did I stir
Myself to my wise Leader at the name
Which ever in my mind wells full and clear.

And then he shook his head, and speech thus came:
"What! would we halt? " while on his face there played
A smile, as at a boy whom fruit doth tame.

Then to the fire he foremost went and prayed
That Statius, following me, would come the last,
For he till then long space between us made.

When I reached it, I could myself have cast
In molten glass to cool mine agony,
The fire was there so measureless and vast.

Then my sweet Father, as to comfort me,
Went on, of Beatrice speaking still,
Saying, " E'en now I seem her eyes to see."

For guide we had a voice whose song did trill
From thence, and we, on it alone intent.
Came forth where rose the steep side of the hill.

"Venite, benedicti Patris," sent
That voice, from out a light so dazzling clear
My power to gaze was all overpowered and spent.

"The sun declines; " it added, "eve is near;
Linger yet not, but hasten on your way,
While yet in western skies no dark appear."

The pathway through the rock straight upward lay,
In such direction that I cast before
The shadow from the sun's now sinking ray;

And a few stairs our footsteps travelled o'er,
When by the shadow that had vanished quite
I and my sages knew how daylight wore.

And ere, through all its fulness infinite,
The horizon gave but one unvaried hue.
And all her gifts had been poured out by Night,

Each on a stair as bed ourselves we threw;
For the hill's nature showed itself of might
Our strength, not will, for climbing to subdue.

As are the goats that on the mountain height,
Ere they are fed, full wild, and wanton bound,
Then, tame and still, to chew the cud delight.

Hushed in the shade, while all is glare around,
Watched by the shepherd, who upon his rod
Leans, and, so leaning, keeps them safe and sound;

And as the goatherd, outside his abode.
Doth by his slumbering flock his night-watch keep.
Guarding lest beast of prey should make inroad.

So were we three seen then in silence deep,
I as the goat, and eke as goatherds they.
On either side hemmed in by craggy steep,

Little we saw of what beyond us lay,
But through that little I beheld each star.
Larger than is their wont, with brighter ray.

Thus chewing thought's cud, seeing them afar,
Sleep fell on me, that sleep that knows full oft
Tidings of things to come ere yet they are.

Then in that hour, I deem, when shone aloft
On the east hill-side Cytherea fair,
Who ever burns with fire of passion soft;

A lady young and comely saw I there
In that my dream, and gathering flowers she came
Through a green field, and thus sang sweetest air.

'Know thou, whoe'er dost seek to know my name,
That I am Leah, and fair hands I ply
To make myself a garland with the same;

I deck myself that in the mirror I
May joy to gaze; my sister Rachel,
All day unceasing doth her mirror eye.

She those her beauteous eyes still longs to see,
As I with busy fingers to adorn;
Sight pleases her, and active working me."

And now, through brightness that precedes the morn,
Which shines more welcome on the pilgrims' head"
As they repose them near their journey's bourn.

On every side around the darkness fled.
And my sleep with it; wherefore I arose.
Seeing my great Masters risen from their bed.

"That sweetest fruit, for which man's craving goes"
In search, on many a branch of many a tree,
This day thy hunger with full peace shall close."

Such words did Virgil, turning, speak to me.
And never were there gifts of worthiest fame
With which like these, the soul well-pleased could be.

Such longing upon longing on me came
To rise above, that each step of the way
I felt my wings grow to bear up my frame.

And when the whole ascent below us lay.
And we stood where no step upmounteth higher,
Virgil on me his eyes intent did stay.

And said, " The temporal and the eternal fire
Thou hast beheld, my son, and hast attained
Where to see farther I may not aspire.

To bring thee here my skill and art I've strained;
Now let thy pleasure take the true guide's place;
In steep paths, strait paths, thou'rt no more detained.

Behold the sun, which shines upon thy face;
See the green grass, the flowers, the tender trees,
Which this fair land brings forth itself to grace.

Until shall come, now bright with thoughts at ease,
The eyes which, weeping, led me thee to seek.
Thou mayst sit still or wander among these.

Look not for me to signal or to speak;
Free, upright, healthy is thine own will now,
And not to do as it commands were weak;

So, crowned and mitred, o'er thyself rule thou."