When the mid-heaven begins to make itself
  So deep to us, that here and there a star
  Ceases to shine so far down as this depth,

And as advances bright exceedingly
  The handmaid of the sun, the heaven is closed
  Light after light to the most beautiful;

Little by little from my vision faded;
  Whereat to turn mine eyes on Beatrice
  My seeing nothing and my love constrained me.

If what has hitherto been said of her
  Were all concluded in a single praise,
  Scant would it be to serve the present turn.

Vanquished do I confess me by this passage
  More than by problem of his theme was ever
  O'ercome the comic or the tragic poet;

For as the sun the sight that trembles most,
  Even so the memory of that sweet smile
  My mind depriveth of its very self.

But now perforce this sequence must desist
  From following her beauty with my verse,
  As every artist at his uttermost.

Such as I leave her to a greater fame
  Than any of my trumpet, which is bringing
  Its arduous matter to a final close,

Light intellectual replete with love,
  Love of true good replete with ecstasy,
  Ecstasy that transcendeth every sweetness.

Here shalt thou see the one host and the other
  Of Paradise, and one in the same aspects
  Which at the final judgment thou shalt see."

Thus round about me flashed a living light,
  And left me swathed around with such a veil
  Of its effulgence, that I nothing saw.

"Ever the Love which quieteth this heaven
  Welcomes into itself with such salute,
  To make the candle ready for its flame."

And I with vision new rekindled me,
  Such that no light whatever is so pure
  But that mine eyes were fortified against it.

And light I saw in fashion of a river
  Fulvid with its effulgence, 'twixt two banks
  Depicted with an admirable Spring. 

And then, as if inebriate with the odours,
  They plunged again into the wondrous torrent,
  And as one entered issued forth another.

"The high desire, that now inflames and moves thee
  To have intelligence of what thou seest,
  Pleaseth me all the more, the more it swells. 

And added: "The river and the topazes
  Going in and out, and the laughing of the herbage,
  Are of their truth foreshadowing prefaces;

Not that these things are difficult in themselves,
  But the deficiency is on thy side,
  For yet thou hast not vision so exalted."

As I did, that I might make better mirrors
  Still of mine eyes, down stooping to the wave
  Which flows that we therein be better made.

And even as the penthouse of mine eyelids
  Drank of it, it forthwith appeared to me
  Out of its length to be transformed to round.

Thus into greater pomp were changed for me
  The flowerets and the sparks, so that I saw
  Both of the Courts of Heaven made manifest.

O splendour of God! by means of which I saw
  The lofty triumph of the realm veracious,
  Give me the power to say how it I saw!

And it expands itself in circular form
  To such extent, that its circumference
  Would be too large a girdle for the sun.

The semblance of it is all made of rays
  Reflected from the top of Primal Motion,
  Which takes therefrom vitality and power. 

So, ranged aloft all round about the light,
  Mirrored I saw in more ranks than a thousand
  All who above there have from us returned.

And if the lowest row collect within it
  So great a light, how vast the amplitude
  Is of this Rose in its extremest leaves!

There near and far nor add nor take away;
  For there where God immediately doth govern,
  The natural law in naught is relevant.

Into the yellow of the Rose Eternal
  That spreads, and multiplies, and breathes an odour
  Of praise unto the ever-vernal Sun,

Behold how vast the circuit of our city!
  Behold our seats so filled to overflowing,
  That here henceforward are few people wanting!

On that great throne whereon thine eyes are fixed
  For the crown's sake already placed upon it,
  Before thou suppest at this wedding feast

Blind covetousness, that casts its spell upon you,
  Has made you like unto the little child,
  Who dies of hunger and drives off the nurse.

And in the sacred forum then shall be
  A Prefect such, that openly or covert
  On the same road he will not walk with him.