Which　I　endured　would　have　bewildered　me；
  If　but　mine　eyes　had　been　averted　from　it；
  And　I　remember　that　I　was　more　bold
  On　this　account　to　bear；　so　that　I　joined
  My　aspect　with　the　Glory　Infinite。
  O　grace　abundant；　by　which　I　presumed
  To　fix　my　sight　upon　the　Light　Eternal；
  So　that　the　seeing　I　consumed　therein！
  I　saw　that　in　its　depth　far　down　is　lying
  Bound　up　with　love　together　in　one　volume；
  What　through　the　universe　in　leaves　is　scattered；
  Substance；　and　accident；　and　their　operations；
  All　interfused　together　in　such　wise
  That　what　I　speak　of　is　one　simple　light。
  The　universal　fashion　of　this　knot
  Methinks　I　saw；　since　more　abundantly
  In　saying　this　I　feel　that　I　rejoice。
  One　moment　is　more　lethargy　to　me；
  Than　five　and　twenty　centuries　to　the　emprise
  That　startled　Neptune　with　the　shade　of　Argo！
  My　mind　in　this　wise　wholly　in　suspense；
  Steadfast；　immovable；　attentive　gazed；
  And　evermore　with　gazing　grew　enkindled。
  In　presence　of　that　light　one　such　becomes；
  That　to　withdraw　therefrom　for　other　prospect
  It　is　impossible　he　e'er　consent；
  Because　the　good；　which　object　is　of　will；
  Is　gathered　all　in　this；　and　out　of　it
  That　is　defective　which　is　perfect　there。
  Shorter　henceforward　will　my　language　fall
  Of　what　I　yet　remember；　than　an　infant's
  Who　still　his　tongue　doth　moisten　at　the　breast。
  Not　because　more　than　one　unmingled　semblance
  Was　in　the　living　light　on　which　I　looked；
  For　it　is　always　what　it　was　before；
  But　through　the　sight；　that　fortified　itself
  In　me　by　looking；　one　appearance　only
  To　me　was　ever　changing　as　I　changed。
  Within　the　deep　and　luminous　subsistence
  Of　the　High　Light　appeared　to　me　three　circles；
  Of　threefold　colour　and　of　one　dimension；
  And　by　the　second　seemed　the　first　reflected
  As　Iris　is　by　Iris；　and　the　third
  Seemed　fire　that　equally　from　both　is　breathed。
  O　how　all　speech　is　feeble　and　falls　short
  Of　my　conceit；　and　this　to　what　I　saw
  Is　such；　'tis　not　enough　to　call　it　little！
  O　Light　Eterne；　sole　in　thyself　that　dwellest；
  Sole　knowest　thyself；　and；　known　unto　thyself
  And　knowing；　lovest　and　smilest　on　thyself！
  That　circulation；　which　being　thus　conceived
  Appeared　in　thee　as　a　reflected　light；
  When　somewhat　contemplated　by　mine　eyes；
  Within　itself；　of　its　own　very　colour
  Seemed　to　me　painted　with　our　effigy；
  Wherefore　my　sight　was　all　absorbed　therein。
  As　the　geometrician；　who　endeavours
  To　square　the　circle；　and　discovers　not；
  By　taking　thought；　the　principle　he　wants；
  Even　such　was　I　at　that　new　apparition；
  I　wished　to　see　how　the　image　to　the　circle
  Conformed　itself；　and　how　it　there　finds　place；
  But　my　own　wings　were　not　enough　for　this；
  Had　it　not　been　that　then　my　mind　there　smote
  A　flash　of　lightning；　wherein　came　its　wish。
  Here　vigour　failed　the　lofty　fantasy：
  But　now　was　turning　my　desire　and　will；
  Even　as　a　wheel　that　equally　is　moved；
  The　Love　which　moves　the　sun　and　the　other　stars。
  APPENDIX
  SIX　SONNETS　ON　DANTE'S　DIVINE　COMEDY
  BY　HENRY　WADSWORTH　LONGFELLOW　（1807…1882）
  I
  Oft　have　I　seen　at　some　cathedral　door
  A　laborer；　pausing　in　the　dust　and　heat；
  Lay　down　his　burden；　and　with　reverent　feet
  Enter；　and　cross　himself；　and　on　the　floor
  Kneel　to　repeat　his　paternoster　o'er；
  Far　off　the　noises　of　the　world　retreat；
  The　loud　vociferations　of　the　street
  Become　an　undistinguishable　roar。
  So；　as　I　enter　here　from　day　to　day；
  And　leave　my　burden　at　this　minster　gate；
  Kneeling　in　prayer；　and　not　ashamed　to　pray；
  The　tumult　of　the　time　disconsolate
  To　inarticulate　murmurs　dies　away；
  While　the　eternal　ages　watch　and　wait。
  II
  How　strange　the　sculptures　that　adorn　these　towers！
  This　crowd　of　statues；　in　whose　folded　sleeves
  Birds　build　their　nests；　while　canopied　with　leaves
  Parvis　and　portal　bloom　like　trellised　bowers；
  And　the　vast　minster　seems　a　cross　of　flowers！
  But　fiends　and　dragons　on　the　gargoyled　eaves
  Watch　the　dead　Christ　between　the　living　thieves；
  And；　underneath；　the　traitor　Judas　lowers！
  Ah！　from　what　agonies　of　heart　and　brain；
  What　exultations　trampling　on　despair；
  What　tenderness；　what　tears；　what　hate　of　wrong；
  What　passionate　outcry　of　a　soul　in　pain；
  Uprose　this　poem　of　the　earth　and　air；
  This　mediaeval　miracle　of　song！
  III
  I　enter；　and　I　see　thee　in　the　gloom
  Of　the　long　aisles；　O　poet　saturnine！
  And　strive　to　make　my　steps　keep　pace　with　thine。
  The　air　is　filled　with　some　unknown　perfume；
  The　congregation　of　the　dead　make　room
  For　thee　to　pass；　the　votive　tapers　shine；
  Like　rooks　that　haunt　Ravenna's　groves　of　pine；
  The　hovering　echoes　fly　from　tomb　to　tomb。
  From　the　confessionals　I　hear　arise
  Rehearsals　of　forgotten　tragedies；
  And　lamentations　from　the　crypts　below
  And　then　a　voice　celestial　that　begins
  With　the　pathetic　words；　〃Although　your　sins
  As　scarlet　be；〃　and　ends　with　〃as　the　snow。〃
  IV
  With　snow…white　veil；　and　garments　as　of　flame；
  She　stands　before　thee；　who　so　long　ago
  Filled　thy　young　heart　with　passion　and　the　woe
  From　which　thy　song　in　all　its　splendors　came；
  And　while　with　stern　rebuke　she　speaks　thy　name；
  The　ice　about　thy　heart　melts　as　the　snow
  On　mountain　heights；　and　in　swift　overflow
  Comes　gushing　from　thy　lips　in　sobs　of　shame。
  Thou　makest　full　confession；　and　a　gleam
  As　of　the　dawn　on　some　dark　forest　cast；
  Seems　on　thy　lifted　forehead　to　increase；
  Lethe　and　Eunoethe　remembered　dream
  And　the　forgotten　sorrowbring　at　last
  That　perfect　pardon　which　is　perfect　peace。
  V
  I　Lift　mine　eyes；　and　all　the　windows　blaze
  With　forms　of　saints　and　holy　men　who　died；
  Here　martyred　and　hereafter　glorified；
  And　the　great　Rose　upon　its　leaves　displays
  Christ's　Triumph；　and　the　angelic　roundelays；
  With　splendor　upon　splendor　multiplied；
  And　Beatrice　again　at　Dante's　side
  No　more　rebukes；　but　smiles　her　words　of　praise。
  And　then　the　organ　sounds；　and　unseen　choirs
  Sing　the　old　Latin　hymns　of　peace　and　love
  And　benedictions　of　the　Holy　Ghost；
  And　the　melodious　bells　among　the　spires
  O'er　all　the　house…tops　and　through　heaven　above
  Proclaim　the　elevation　of　the　Host！
  VI
  O　star　of　morning　and　of　liberty！
  O　bringer　of　the　light；　whose　splendor　shines
  Above　the　darkness　of　the　Apennines；
  Forerunner　of　the　day　that　is　to　be！
  The　voices　of　the　city　and　the　sea；
  The　voices　of　the　mountains　and　the　pines；
  Repeat　thy　song；　till　the　familiar　lines
  Are　footpaths　for　the　thought　of　Italy！
  Thy　fame　is　blown　abroad　from　all　the　heights；
  Through　all　the　nations；　and　a　sound　is　heard；
  As　of　a　mighty　wind；　and　men　devout；
  Strangers　of　Rome；　and　the　new　proselytes；
  In　their　own　language　hear　thy　wondrous　word；
  And　many　are　amazed　and　many　doubt。
  End