I. The Ascent to the First Heaven. The Sphere of Fire.

       Table of Contents

      The glory of Him who moveth everything

       Doth penetrate the universe, and shine

       In one part more and in another less.

      Within that heaven which most his light receives

       Was I, and things beheld which to repeat

       Nor knows, nor can, who from above descends;

      Because in drawing near to its desire

       Our intellect ingulphs itself so far,

       That after it the memory cannot go.

      Truly whatever of the holy realm

       I had the power to treasure in my mind

       Shall now become the subject of my song.

      O good Apollo, for this last emprise

       Make of me such a vessel of thy power

       As giving the beloved laurel asks!

      One summit of Parnassus hitherto

       Has been enough for me, but now with both

       I needs must enter the arena left.

      Enter into my bosom, thou, and breathe

       As at the time when Marsyas thou didst draw

       Out of the scabbard of those limbs of his.

      O power divine, lend'st thou thyself to me

       So that the shadow of the blessed realm

       Stamped in my brain I can make manifest,

      Thou'lt see me come unto thy darling tree,

       And crown myself thereafter with those leaves

       Of which the theme and thou shall make me worthy.

      So seldom, Father, do we gather them

       For triumph or of Caesar or of Poet,

       (The fault and shame of human inclinations,)

      That the Peneian foliage should bring forth

       Joy to the joyous Delphic deity,

       When any one it makes to thirst for it.

      A little spark is followed by great flame;

       Perchance with better voices after me

       Shall prayer be made that Cyrrha may respond!

      To mortal men by passages diverse

       Uprises the world's lamp; but by that one

       Which circles four uniteth with three crosses,

      With better course and with a better star

       Conjoined it issues, and the mundane wax

       Tempers and stamps more after its own fashion.

      Almost that passage had made morning there

       And evening here, and there was wholly white

       That hemisphere, and black the other part,

      When Beatrice towards the left-hand side

       I saw turned round, and gazing at the sun;

       Never did eagle fasten so upon it!

      And even as a second ray is wont

       To issue from the first and reascend,

       Like to a pilgrim who would fain return,

      Thus of her action, through the eyes infused

       In my imagination, mine I made,

       And sunward fixed mine eyes beyond our wont.

      There much is lawful which is here unlawful

       Unto our powers, by virtue of the place

       Made for the human species as its own.

      Not long I bore it, nor so little while

       But I beheld it sparkle round about

       Like iron that comes molten from the fire;

      And suddenly it seemed that day to day

       Was added, as if He who has the power

       Had with another sun the heaven adorned.

      With eyes upon the everlasting wheels

       Stood Beatrice all intent, and I, on her

       Fixing my vision from above removed,

      Such at her aspect inwardly became

       As Glaucus, tasting of the herb that made him

       Peer of the other gods beneath the sea.

      To represent transhumanise in words

       Impossible were;