# Paradise Canto  1

*Exported from [Holy-Writings.com](https://www.holy-writings.com/) on 2026-06-22 — 1 clipping.*

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> 
> Canto I
> 
> Argument
> 
>      The Poet ascends with Beatrice toward the first heaven; and is, by her,
> resolved of certain doubts which arise in his mind.
> 
> His glory, by whose might all things are moved,
> Pierces the universe, and in one part
> Sheds more resplendence, elsewhere less. In
> That largeliest of His light partakes, was I, [Heaven
> Witness of things, which, to relate again,
> Surpasseth power of him who comes from thence;
> For that, so near approaching its desire,
> Out intellect is to such depth absorb'd,
> That memory cannot follow. Nathless all,
> That in my thoughts I of that sacred realm
> Could store, shall now be matter of my song.
> 
> Benign Apollo! this last labour aid;
> And make me such a vessel of thy worth,
> As thy own laurel claims, of me beloved.
> Thus far[1] hath one of steep Parnassus' brows
> Sufficed me; henceforth, there is need of both
> For my remaining enterprise. Do thou[2]
> Enter into my bosom, and there breathe
> So, as when Marsyas by thy hand was dragg'd
> Forth from his limbs, unsheathed. O power divine!
> If thou to me of thine impart so much,
> That of that happy realm the shadow'd form
> Traced in my thoughts I may set forth to view;
> Thou shalt behold me of thy favour'd tree
> Come to the foot, and crown myself with leaves:
> For to that honour thou, and my high theme
> 
> [1: "Thus far." He appears to mean nothing more than that this part
> of his poem will require a greater exertion of his powers than the former.]
> 
> [2: "Do thou." Make me thine instrument; and, through me, utter such
> sound as when thou didst contend with Marsyas.]
> 
> Will fit me. If but seldom, mighty Sire!
> To grace his triumph, gathers thence a wreath
> Caesar, or bard, (more shame for human wills
> Depraved), joy to the Delphic god must spring
> From the Peneian foliage, when one breast
> Is with such thirst inspired. From a small spark
> Great flame hath risen: after me, perchance,
> Others with better voice may pray, and gain,
> From the Cyrrhaean city, answer kind.
> 
> Through divers passages, the world's bright lamp
> Rises to mortals; but through that[3] which joins
> Four circles with the threefold cross, in best
> Course, and in happiest constellation[4] set,
> He comes; and, to the worldly wax, best gives
> Its temper and impression. Morning there,[5]
> Here eve was well - nigh by such passage made;
> And whiteness had o'erspread that hemisphere,
> Blackness the other part; when to the left[6]
> I saw Beatrice turn'd, and on the sun
> Gazing, as never eagle fix'd his ken.
> As from the first a second beam is wont
> To issue, and reflected upward rise,
> Even as a pilgrim bent on his return;
> So of her act, that through the eyesight pass'd
> Into my fancy, mine was form'd: and straight,
> Beyond our mortal wont, I fix'd mine eyes
> Upon the sun. Much is allow'd us there,
> That here exceeds our power; thanks to the place
> Made for the dwelling of the human kind.
> 
> [3: "Where the four circles, the horizon, the zodiac, the equator,
> and the equinoctial colure join; the last three intersecting each other so as
> to form three crosses, as may be seen in the armillary sphere."]
> 
> [4: Aries. Some understand the planet Venus by the "migliore
> stella."]
> 
> [5: "Morning there." It was morning where he then was, and about
> eventide on the earth.]
> 
> [6: "To the left." Being in the opposite hemisphere to ours,
> Beatrice, that she may behold the rising sun, turns herself to the left.]
> 
> I suffer'd it not long; and yet so long,
> That I beheld it bickering sparks around,
> As iron that comes boiling from the fire.
> And suddenly upon the day appear'd
> A day new - risen; as he, who hath the power,
> 
> Had with another sun bedeck'd the sky.
> 
> Her eyes fast fix'd on the eternal wheels,
> Beatrice stood unmoved; and I with ken
> Fix'd upon her, from upward gaze removed,
> At her aspect, such inwardly became
> As Glaucus, when he tasted of the herb
> That made him peer among the ocean gods:
> Words may not tell of that trans - human change;
> And therefore let the example serve, though weak,
> For those whom grace hath better proof in store.
> 
> If I were only what thou didst create,
> Then newly, Love! by whom the Heaven is ruled;
> Thou know'st, who by Thy light didst bear me up.
> Whenas the wheel which Thou dost ever guide,
> Desired Spirit! with its harmony,
> Temper'd of Thee and measured, charm'd mine ear,
> Then seem'd to me so much of Heaven to blaze
> With the sun's flame, that rain or flood ne'er made
> A lake so broad. The newness of the sound,
> And that great light, inflamed me with desire,
> Keener than e'er was felt, to know their cause.
> 
> Whence she, who saw me, clearly as myself,
> To calm my troubled mind, before I ask'd,
> Open'd her lips, and gracious thus began:
> "With false imagination thou thyself
> Makest dull; so that thou seest not the thing,
> Which thou hadst seen, had that been shaken off.
> Thou art not on the earth as thou believest;
> For lightning, scaped from its own proper place,
> Ne'er ran, as thou has hither now return'd."
> 
> Although divested of my first - raised doubt
> By those brief words accompanied with smiles,
> Yet in new doubt was I entangled more,
> And said: "Already satisfied, I rest
> From admiration deep; but now admire
> How I above those lighter bodies rise."
> 
> Whence, after utterance of a piteous sigh,
> She toward me bent her eyes, with such a look,
> As on her frenzied child a mother casts;
> Then thus began: "Among themselves all things
> Have order; and from hence the form,[7] which makes
> The universe resemble God. In this
> The higher creatures see the printed steps
> Of that eternal worth, which is the end
> Whither the line is drawn.[8] All natures lean,
> In this their order, diversely; some more,
> Some less approaching to their primal source.
> Thus they to different havens are moved on
> Through the vast sea of being, and each one
> With instinct given, that bears it in its course:
> This to the lunar sphere directs the fire;
> This moves the hearts of mortal animals;
> This the brute earth together knits, and binds.
> Nor only creatures, void of intellect,
> Are aim'd at by this bow; but even those,
> That have intelligence and love, are pierced.
> That Providence, who so well orders all,
> With her own light makes ever calm the Heaven,[9]
> In which the substance, that hath greatest speed,[10]
> Is turn'd: and thither now, as to our seat
> Predestined, we are carried by the force
> Of that strong cord, that never looses dart
> But at fair aim and glad. Yet is it true,
> That as, oft - times, but ill accords the form
> To the design of art, through sluggishness
> Or unreplying matter; so this course
> Is sometimes quitted by the creature, who
> Hath power, directed thus, to bend elsewhere;
> As from a cloud the fire is seen to fall,
> From its original impulse warp'd, to earth,
> By vitious fondness. Thou no more admire
> Thy soaring (if I rightly deem) that lapse
> Of torrent downward from a mountain's height.
> There would in thee for wonder be more cause,
> If, free of hindrance, thou hadst stay'd below,
> 
> [7: This order it is, that gives to the universe the form of unity,
> and therefore resemblance to God.]
> 
> [8: All things, as they have their beginning from the Supreme Being,
> so are they referred to Him  gain.]
> 
> [9: "The Heaven." The empyrean, which is always motionless.]
> 
> [10: "The substance, etc." The primum mobile.]
> 
> As living fire unmoved upon the earth."
> 
> So said, she turn'd toward the Heaven her face.
>
> — *Paradise Canto  1*