With gems her forehead all relucent was,
  Set in the shape of that cold animal
  Which with its tail doth smite amain the nations,

And of the steps, with which she mounts, the Night
  Had taken two in that place where we were,
  And now the third was bending down its wings; 

Just at the hour when her sad lay begins
  The little swallow, near unto the morning,
  Perchance in memory of her former woes,

And when the mind of man, a wanderer
  More from the flesh, and less by thought imprisoned,
  Almost prophetic in its visions is, 

And this, it seemed to me, was where had been
  By Ganymede his kith and kin abandoned,
  When to the high consistory he was rapt.

I thought within myself, perchance he strikes
  From habit only here, and from elsewhere
  Disdains to bear up any in his feet. 

Therein it seemed that he and I were burning,
  And the imagined fire did scorch me so,
  That of necessity my sleep was broken.

Not otherwise Achilles started up,
  Around him turning his awakened eyes,
  And knowing not the place in which he was,

Than I upstarted, when from off my face
  Sleep fled away; and pallid I became,
  As doth the man who freezes with affright.

Only my Comforter was at my side,
  And now the sun was more than two hours high,
  And turned towards the sea-shore was my face.

Thou hast at length arrived at Purgatory;
  See there the cliff that closes it around;
  See there the entrance, where it seems disjoined.

Whilom at dawn, which doth precede the day,
  When inwardly thy spirit was asleep
  Upon the flowers that deck the land below,

Sordello and the other noble shapes
  Remained; she took thee, and, as day grew bright,
  Upward she came, and I upon her footsteps.

She laid thee here; and first her beauteous eyes
  That open entrance pointed out to me;
  Then she and sleep together went away."

So did I change; and when without disquiet
  My Leader saw me, up along the cliff
  He moved, and I behind him, tow'rd the height.

Reader, thou seest well how I exalt
  My theme, and therefore if with greater art
  I fortify it, marvel not thereat.

I saw a portal, and three stairs beneath,
  Diverse in colour, to go up to it,
  And a gate-keeper, who yet spake no word.

And as I opened more and more mine eyes,
  I saw him seated on the highest stair,
  Such in the face that I endured it not.

"Tell it from where you are, what is't you wish?"
  Began he to exclaim; "where is the escort?
  Take heed your coming hither harm you not!"

"A Lady of Heaven, with these things conversant,"
  My Master answered him, "but even now
  Said to us, 'Thither go; there is the portal.'"

Thither did we approach; and the first stair
  Was marble white, so polished and so smooth,
  I mirrored myself therein as I appear.

The second, tinct of deeper hue than perse,
  Was of a calcined and uneven stone,
  Cracked all asunder lengthwise and across. 

Both of his feet was holding upon this
  The Angel of God, upon the threshold seated,
  Which seemed to me a stone of diamond.

Along the three stairs upward with good will
  Did my Conductor draw me, saying: "Ask
  Humbly that he the fastening may undo." 

Seven P's upon my forehead he described
With the sword's point, and, "Take heed that thou wash
  These wounds, when thou shalt be within," he said.

Ashes, or earth that dry is excavated,
  Of the same colour were with his attire,
  And from beneath it he drew forth two keys. 

"Whenever faileth either of these keys
  So that it turn not rightly in the lock,"
  He said to us, "this entrance doth not open.

More precious one is, but the other needs
  More art and intellect ere it unlock,
  For it is that which doth the knot unloose.

Then pushed the portals of the sacred door,
  Exclaiming: "Enter; but I give you warning
  That forth returns whoever looks behind."

And when upon their hinges were turned round
  The swivels of that consecrated gate,
  Which are of metal, massive and sonorous, 

At the first thunder-peal I turned attentive,
  And "Te Deum laudamus" seemed to hear
  In voices mingled with sweet melody.

Exactly such an image rendered me
  That which I heard, as we are wont to catch,
  When people singing with the organ stand;