CANTO XIII ERE Nessus yet had reach'd the other bank,We enter'd on a forest, where no trackOf steps had worn a way.  Not verdant thereThe foliage, but of dusky hue; not lightThe boughs and tapering, but with knares deform'dAnd matted thick: fruits there were none, but thornsInstead, with venom fill'd. Less sharp than these,Less intricate the brakes, wherein abideThose animals, that hate the cultur'd fields,Betwixt Corneto and Cecina's... more...

CANTO XVIII THERE is a place within the depths of hellCall'd Malebolge, all of rock dark-stain'dWith hue ferruginous, e'en as the steepThat round it circling winds.  Right in the midstOf that abominable region, yawnsA spacious gulf profound, whereof the frameDue time shall tell.  The circle, that remains,Throughout its round, between the gulf and baseOf the high craggy banks, successive formsTen trenches, in its hollow bottom sunk.As... more...

CANTO XXIII IN silence and in solitude we went,One first, the other following his steps,As minor friars journeying on their road.The present fray had turn'd my thoughts to museUpon old Aesop's fable, where he toldWhat fate unto the mouse and frog befell.For language hath not sounds more like in sense,Than are these chances, if the originAnd end of each be heedfully compar'd.And as one thought bursts from another forth,So afterward from that... more...

CANTO XXIX SO were mine eyes inebriate with viewOf the vast multitude, whom various woundsDisfigur'd, that they long'd to stay and weep.But Virgil rous'd me: "What yet gazest on?Wherefore doth fasten yet thy sight belowAmong the maim'd and miserable shades?Thou hast not shewn in any chasm besideThis weakness.  Know, if thou wouldst number themThat two and twenty miles the valley windsIts circuit, and already is the moonBeneath our feet: the... more...

CANTO XXXII COULD I command rough rhimes and hoarse, to suitThat hole of sorrow, o'er which ev'ry rockHis firm abutment rears, then might the veinOf fancy rise full springing: but not mineSuch measures, and with falt'ring awe I touchThe mighty theme; for to describe the depthOf all the universe, is no emprizeTo jest with, and demands a tongue not us'dTo infant babbling.  But let them assistMy song, the tuneful maidens, by whose aidAmphion... more...

CANTO I His glory, by whose might all things are mov'd,Pierces the universe, and in one partSheds more resplendence, elsewhere less.  In heav'n,That largeliest of his light partakes, was I,Witness of things, which to relate againSurpasseth power of him who comes from thence;For that, so near approaching its desireOur intellect is to such depth absorb'd,That memory cannot follow.  Nathless all,That in my thoughts I of that sacred... more...

CANTO I His glory, by whose might all things are mov'd,Pierces the universe, and in one partSheds more resplendence, elsewhere less.  In heav'n,That largeliest of his light partakes, was I,Witness of things, which to relate againSurpasseth power of him who comes from thence;For that, so near approaching its desireOur intellect is to such depth absorb'd,That memory cannot follow.  Nathless all,That in my thoughts I of that sacred... more...

CANTO XV True love, that ever shows itself as clearIn kindness, as loose appetite in wrong,Silenced that lyre harmonious, and still'dThe sacred chords, that are by heav'n's right handUnwound and tighten'd, flow to righteous prayersShould they not hearken, who, to give me willFor praying, in accordance thus were mute?He hath in sooth good cause for endless grief,Who, for the love of thing that lasteth not,Despoils himself forever of that... more...

CANTO XXII Astounded, to the guardian of my stepsI turn'd me, like the chill, who always runsThither for succour, where he trusteth most,And she was like the mother, who her sonBeholding pale and breathless, with her voiceSoothes him, and he is cheer'd; for thus she spake,Soothing me: "Know'st not thou, thou art in heav'n?And know'st not thou, whatever is in heav'n,Is holy, and that nothing there is doneBut is done zealously and well?  Deem... more...

CANTO I O'er better waves to speed her rapid courseThe light bark of my genius lifts the sail,Well pleas'd to leave so cruel sea behind;And of that second region will I sing,In which the human spirit from sinful blotIs purg'd, and for ascent to Heaven prepares.Here, O ye hallow'd Nine! for in your trainI follow, here the deadened strain revive;Nor let Calliope refuse to soundA somewhat higher song, of that loud tone,Which when the wretched birds... more...