"Marcia so pleasing in my sight was found,"

       He then to him rejoin'd, "while I was there,

       That all she ask'd me I was fain to grant.

       Now that beyond the' accursed stream she dwells,

       She may no longer move me, by that law,

       Which was ordain'd me, when I issued thence.

       Not so, if Dame from heaven, as thou sayst,

       Moves and directs thee; then no flattery needs.

       Enough for me that in her name thou ask.

       Go therefore now: and with a slender reed

       See that thou duly gird him, and his face

       Lave, till all sordid stain thou wipe from thence.

       For not with eye, by any cloud obscur'd,

       Would it be seemly before him to come,

       Who stands the foremost minister in heaven.

       This islet all around, there far beneath,

       Where the wave beats it, on the oozy bed

       Produces store of reeds. No other plant,

       Cover'd with leaves, or harden'd in its stalk,

       There lives, not bending to the water's sway.

       After, this way return not; but the sun

       Will show you, that now rises, where to take

       The mountain in its easiest ascent."

       He disappear'd; and I myself uprais'd

       Speechless, and to my guide retiring close,

       Toward him turn'd mine eyes. He thus began;

       "My son! observant thou my steps pursue.

       We must retreat to rearward, for that way

       The champain to its low extreme declines."

       The dawn had chas'd the matin hour of prime,

       Which deaf before it, so that from afar

       I spy'd the trembling of the ocean stream.

       We travers'd the deserted plain, as one

       Who, wander'd from his track, thinks every step

       Trodden in vain till he regain the path.

       When we had come, where yet the tender dew

       Strove with the sun, and in a place, where fresh

       The wind breath'd o'er it, while it slowly dried;

       Both hands extended on the watery grass

       My master plac'd, in graceful act and kind.

       Whence I of his intent before appriz'd,

       Stretch'd out to him my cheeks suffus'd with tears.

       There to my visage he anew restor'd

       That hue, which the dun shades of hell conceal'd.

       Then on the solitary shore arriv'd,

       That never sailing on its waters saw

       Man, that could after measure back his course,

       He girt me in such manner as had pleas'd

       Him who instructed, and O, strange to tell!

       As he selected every humble plant,

       Wherever one was pluck'd, another there

       Resembling, straightway in its place arose.

CANTO II

       Table of Contents

       Now had the sun to that horizon reach'd,

       That covers, with the most exalted point

       Of its meridian circle, Salem's walls,

       And night, that opposite to him her orb

       Sounds, from the stream of Ganges issued forth,

       Holding the scales, that from her hands are dropp'd

       When she reigns highest: so that where I was,

       Aurora's white and vermeil-tinctur'd cheek

       To orange turn'd as she in age increas'd.

       Meanwhile we linger'd by the water's brink,

       Like men, who, musing on their road, in thought

       Journey, while motionless the body rests.

       When lo! as near upon the hour of dawn,

       Through the thick vapours Mars with fiery beam

       Glares down in west, over the ocean floor;

       So seem'd, what once again I hope to view,

       A light so swiftly coming through the sea,

       No winged course might equal its career.

       From which when for a space I had withdrawn

       Thine eyes, to make inquiry of my guide,

       Again I look'd and saw it grown in size

       And brightness: thou on either side appear'd

       Something, but what I knew not of bright hue,

       And by degrees from underneath it came

       Another. My preceptor silent yet

       Stood, while the brightness, that we first discern'd,

       Open'd the form of wings: then when he knew

       The pilot, cried aloud, "Down, down; bend low

       Thy knees; behold God's angel: fold thy hands:

       Now shalt thou see true Ministers indeed."

       ENLARGE TO FULL SIZE

       Lo how all human means he sets at naught!

       So that nor oar he needs, nor other sail

       Except his wings, between such distant shores.

       Lo how straight up to heaven he holds them rear'd,

       Winnowing the air with those eternal plumes,

       That not like

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