Classic Poem

After the warm embrace of welcome glad
Had been repeated more than twice or thrice,
Sordell drew back, and " Who are ye? " he said.
" Ere to this mount the spirits might arise,
Worthy the paradise of God to win,
Octavius laid my corpse where now it lies;
For I am Virgil; and no other sin
But lack of faith hath lost me heavenly bliss: "
Thus did my leader his reply begin.
As one who sees some wond'rous thing, I wis,
And knows not where he may his credence place,
But first he says, it is not; then, it is;
Sordello thus appear'd, and bow'd his face.
Again toward my guide he turn'd, the while
He spake, and humbly did his knees embrace:
" O glory of the Latins! thou whose toil
The power of our old language hath made known,
Eternal honour of my native soil!
What grace or merit thee to me hath shown?
But if thou deignst to speak, then tell me now,
If thou hast come from Hell, and through what zone. "
" Through all the circles of the realm of woe
Have I come hither, " thus he made reply;
" By strength from Heaven impell'd, I come and go.
Not deeds, but lack of deeds, has caused that I
May never see the Sun thou dost desire;
And which by me was known too tardily.
There is a place below, not plagued with fire,
But only sad with darkness, where they mourn
With sighs alone, and not with wailings dire;
There dwell I with the stainless babes new born,
The unbaptised, who have been slain by Death
Ere they our human guiltiness have worn.
And there I dwell with those who hope, nor faith,
Nor love have known; yet without other sin
Still stedfastly have walk'd in virtue's path:
But, couldst thou aid us, gladly would I win
Some knowledge how to climb the mountain-side,
Where Purgatory truly doth begin. "
" There is no certain path, " the Shade replied;
" I am permitted all around to stray;
Far as I can, I now will be your guide.
But see already how declines the day:
Ascend by night we may not; thus 'tis well
To look for a fair sojourn while we may.
Far at our right a band of spirits dwell;
There will I lead thee, if thou dost consent,
And who thou art, to them will gladly tell. "
" But how is this? " was answer'd, " if intent
To climb this rock by night, is there some bar,
Or lack of strength that hinders the ascent? "
The good Sordello bent him down, and there
Traced with his finger on the ground, and said:
" Thou canst not cross this bound'ry, while the star
Of day is hid from us; and yet is laid
On thee no hindrance save the clouds of night:
Only the darkness makes thy will afraid.
Thus it might be, thou'dst turn thee from the height,
And wander downwards where the valley lies,
While the horizon hides the sunny light. "
And then my Master, even as in surprise,
Made answer: " Lead us on, where thou hast said
It shall be well till day again arise. "
But little further onward had we sped,
When I perceived that in the mount there lay
A vale like those of earth. Then he who led
Our footsteps spake: " Now thither is our way;
Even where the coast the deepest hollow hath:
There may we wait the dawning of the day. "
'Twixt smooth and rugged, by a winding path,
Did we toward that quiet valley go,
Where most its stony rampart 'minisheth.
Silver, and gold, and newly fallen snow;
The shining wood of India; Tyrian dye;
The fresh-cut emerald and ruby's glow;
If placed anear the leaves and blooms that vie
Within that dell, and all the ground bestrew,
In sooth, all dull and colourless would lie.
Nor was there only every lovely hue;
The sweetness of a thousand scents, I ween,
Was mingled, floating on the evening dew.
" Salve Regina , " on the flowery green,
The spirits sat and sang: those souls whom yet
Beyond the valley's bound I had not seen.
" Before the dying sun hath fully set, "
Thus spake the Troubadour, our Mantuan guide,
" I would not that those spirits ye should greet.
Their looks and actions better may be spied
Here where the rock impendeth, than along
The path within the valley by their side.
He who is seated highest in the throng,
But, sad with thoughts of worthy deeds undone,
Moves not his lips to join the others' song,
Was erst the Emperor Rudolph; who alone
Could heal the wounds that Italy have slain:
Slowly by others must the work be done.
He who to give him comfort seemeth fain,
Ruled in the land from whence the streams gush forth,
First Moldowa, then Elbe, towards the main:
His name was Ottocar; of greater worth,
From youth, than Wenceslaus his son; even he
Who dwells in idle luxury on earth.
And he who in close counsel seems to be
With one of gentle aspect, as he fled
He died, dishonouring the fleur-de-lis.
Look how he beats his breast. By grief downweigh'd,
Behold the other, as in mournful trance,
Upon his palm he rests his weary head:
Father and kinsman of the curse of France
Are they; his foul and wicked life they know,
And therefore grief doth pierce them as a lance.
And he who such a stalwart frame doth show,
And him of manly features joins in song,
Girt with the cord of valour erst did go.
If to the youth behind him in the throng
The sceptre of his kingdom had remain'd,
Virtue from sire to son had pass'd along.
It is not thus with those who since have reign'd;
Frederick and Giacopo possess the land,
But of the better part have nought retain'd.
Full rarely through the branches doth ascend
The worth of human virtue; thus He wills
Who gives it, that to Him all praise may tend.
And not yon Shade alone my speech fulfils;
He also proves it who with him doth sing:
Thus Puglia and Provence have many ills.
For so much weaker do his branches spring,
As much as Constance boasts more joy, as wife,
Than Beatrice and Margaret's fate may bring.
And there behold the king of simple life,
Henry of England, sitting all alone:
His offshoots more with virtuous deeds are rife.
And in a lower place, to thee is shown
The Marquis William, aye with upward gaze:
For him and Alexandria they groan
Even now, in Monferrato and the Canavese.