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"So much that I might hear what thou art singing.

      Thou makest me remember where and what

       Proserpina that moment was when lost

       Her mother her, and she herself the Spring."

      As turns herself, with feet together pressed

       And to the ground, a lady who is dancing,

       And hardly puts one foot before the other,

      On the vermilion and the yellow flowerets

       She turned towards me, not in other wise

       Than maiden who her modest eyes casts down;

      And my entreaties made to be content,

       So near approaching, that the dulcet sound

       Came unto me together with its meaning

      As soon as she was where the grasses are.

       Bathed by the waters of the beauteous river,

       To lift her eyes she granted me the boon.

      I do not think there shone so great a light

       Under the lids of Venus, when transfixed

       By her own son, beyond his usual custom!

      Erect upon the other bank she smiled,

       Bearing full many colours in her hands,

       Which that high land produces without seed.

      Apart three paces did the river make us;

       But Hellespont, where Xerxes passed across,

       (A curb still to all human arrogance,)

      More hatred from Leander did not suffer

       For rolling between Sestos and Abydos,

       Than that from me, because it oped not then.

      "Ye are new-comers; and because I smile,"

       Began she, "peradventure, in this place

       Elect to human nature for its nest,

      Some apprehension keeps you marvelling;

       But the psalm 'Delectasti' giveth light

       Which has the power to uncloud your intellect.

      And thou who foremost art, and didst entreat me,

       Speak, if thou wouldst hear more; for I came ready

       To all thy questionings, as far as needful."

      "The water," said I, "and the forest's sound,

       Are combating within me my new faith

       In something which I heard opposed to this."

      Whence she: "I will relate how from its cause

       Proceedeth that which maketh thee to wonder,

       And purge away the cloud that smites upon thee.

      The Good Supreme, sole in itself delighting,

       Created man good, and this goodly place

       Gave him as hansel of eternal peace.

      By his default short while he sojourned here;

       By his default to weeping and to toil

       He changed his innocent laughter and sweet play.

      That the disturbance which below is made

       By exhalations of the land and water,

       (Which far as may be follow after heat,)

      Might not upon mankind wage any war,

       This mount ascended tow'rds the heaven so high,

       And is exempt, from there where it is locked.

      Now since the universal atmosphere

       Turns in a circuit with the primal motion

       Unless the circle is broken on some side,

      Upon this height, that all is disengaged

       In living ether, doth this motion strike

       And make the forest sound, for it is dense;

      And so much power the stricken plant possesses

       That with its virtue it impregns the air,

       And this, revolving, scatters it around;

      And yonder earth, according as 'tis worthy

       In self or in its clime, conceives and bears

       Of divers qualities the divers trees;

      It should not seem a marvel then on earth,

       This being heard, whenever any plant

       Without seed manifest there taketh root.

      And thou must know, this holy table-land

       In which thou art is full of every seed,

       And fruit has in it never gathered there.

      The water which thou seest springs not from vein

       Restored by vapour that the cold condenses,

       Like to a stream that gains or loses breath;

      But issues from a fountain safe and certain,

       Which by the will of God as much regains

       As it discharges, open on two sides.

      Upon this side with virtue it descends,

       Which takes away all memory of sin;

       On that, of every good deed done restores it.

      Here Lethe, as upon the other side

       Eunoe, it is called; and worketh not

       If first on either side it be not tasted.

      This every other savour doth transcend;

       And notwithstanding slaked so far may be

       Thy thirst, that I reveal to thee no more,

      I'll give thee a corollary still in grace,

       Nor think my speech will be to thee less dear

       If it spread out beyond my promise to thee.

      Those who in ancient times have feigned in song

       The Age of Gold and its felicity,

       Dreamed of this place perhaps upon Parnassus.

      Here was the human race in innocence;

       Here evermore was Spring, and every fruit;

       This is the nectar of which each one speaks."

      Then backward did I turn me wholly round

       Unto my Poets, and saw that with a smile

       They had been listening to these closing words;

      Then to the beautiful lady turned mine eyes.

      XXIX. The Triumph of the Church.

       Table of Contents

      Singing like unto an enamoured lady

       She, with the ending of her words, continued:

       "Beati quorum tecta sunt peccata."

      And even as Nymphs, that wandered all alone

       Among the sylvan shadows, sedulous

       One to avoid and one to see the sun,

      She then against the stream moved onward, going

       Along the bank, and I abreast of her,

       Her little steps with little steps attending.

      Between her steps and mine were not a hundred,

       When equally the margins gave a turn,

      

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