PARADISE FROM THE DIVINE COMEDY BY Dante Alighieri Translated by THE REV. H. F. CARY, M.A. Contents CANTO I. CANTO II. CANTO III. CANTO IV. CANTO V. CANTO VI. CANTO VII. CANTO VIII. CANTO IX. CANTO X. CANTO XI. CANTO XII. CANTO XIII. CANTO XIV. CANTO XV. CANTO XVI. CANTO XVII. CANTO XVIII. CANTO XIX. CANTO XX. CANTO XXI. CANTO XXII. CANTO XXIII. CANTO XXIV. CANTO XXV. CANTO XXVI. CANTO XXVII. CANTO XXVIII. CANTO XXIX. CANTO XXX. CANTO XXXI. CANTO XXXII. CANTO XXXIII. PARADISE CANTO I His glory, by whose might all things are mov’d, Pierces the universe, and in one part Sheds more resplendence, elsewhere less. In heav’n, That largeliest of his light partakes, was I, Witness of things, which to relate again Surpasseth power of him who comes from thence; For that, so near approaching its desire Our intellect is to such depth absorb’d, That memory cannot follow. Nathless all, That in my thoughts I of that sacred realm Could store, shall now be matter of my song. Benign Apollo! this last labour aid, And make me such a vessel of thy worth, As thy own laurel claims of me belov’d. Thus far hath one of steep Parnassus’ brows Suffic’d me; henceforth there is need of both For my remaining enterprise Do thou Enter into my bosom, and there breathe So, as when Marsyas by thy hand was dragg’d Forth from his limbs unsheath’d. O power divine! If thou to me of shine impart so much, That of that happy realm the shadow’d form Trac’d in my thoughts I may set forth to view, Thou shalt behold me of thy favour’d tree Come to the foot, and crown myself with leaves; For to that honour thou, and my high theme Will fit me. If but seldom, mighty Sire! To grace his triumph gathers thence a wreath Caesar or bard (more shame for human wills Deprav’d) joy to the Delphic god must spring From the Pierian foliage, when one breast Is with such thirst inspir’d. From a small spark Great flame hath risen: after me perchance Others with better voice may pray, and gain From the Cirrhaean city answer kind. Through diver passages, the world’s bright lamp Rises to mortals, but through that which joins Four circles with the threefold cross, in best Course, and in happiest constellation set He comes, and to the worldly wax best gives Its temper and impression. Morning there, Here eve was by almost such passage made; And whiteness had o’erspread that hemisphere, Blackness the other part; when to the left I saw Beatrice turn’d, and on the sun Gazing, as never eagle fix’d his ken. As from the first a second beam is wont To issue, and reflected upwards rise, E’en as a pilgrim bent on his return, So of her act, that through the eyesight pass’d Into my fancy, mine was form’d; and straight, Beyond our mortal wont, I fix’d mine eyes Upon the sun. Much is allowed us there, That here exceeds our pow’r; thanks to the place Made for the dwelling of the human kind