"Singing, as if enamored, she resumed And closed the song, with 'Blessed they whose sins Are covered.' Like the wood-nymphs then, that tripped Singly across the sylvan shadows; one Eager to view, and one to escape the sun; So moved she on, against the current, up The verdant rivage. I, her mincing step Observing, with as tardy step pursued. "Between us not an hundred paces trod, The bank, on each side bending equally, Gave me to face the Orient. Nor our way Far onward brought us, when to me at once She turned, and cried: 'My brother! look, and hearken.' And lo! a sudden lustre ran across Through the great forest on all parts, so bright, I doubted whether lightning were abroad; But that, expiring ever in the spleen That doth unfold it, and this during still, And waxing still in splendor, made me question What it might be: and a sweet melody Ran through the luminous air. Then did I chide, With warrantable zeal, the hardihood Of our first parent; for that there, where earth Stood in obedience to the heavens, she only, Woman, the creature of an hour, endured not Restraint of any veil, which had she borne Devoutly, joys, ineffable as these, Had from the first, and long time since, been mine. "While, through that wilderness of primy sweets That never fade, suspense I walked, and yet Expectant of beatitude more high; Before us, like a blazing fire, the air Under the green boughs glowed; and, for a song, Distinct the sound of melody was heard." The poet now beholds a mystical procession of strange and wonderful beasts, venerable old men, beautiful maidens dressed in red, white, green, and purple, all accompanying a chariot drawn by a griffin and representing the Church of Christ. On the chariot itself stands Beatrice.