CANTO THE FIRST.

ARGUMENT.

The Poets re-ascend at the Foot of the Mountain of PROBATION, where they meet the Spirit of CATO of UTICA, who informs them of the previous Ceremonies. They take their Journey to the Sea-shore, and prepare for their Entrance into the Regions of LUSTRATION.

BUT now the barque, that wafts the Muse and me,

Displays her canvas on the smoother sea,

And leaves the horrible expanse behind :

Scourg’d by the tempest of eternal wrath,

It is now giv’n to other climes to breathe,

Where the pure Spirit soars, from sin refin’d.

II.

Purge off the STYGIAN gloom, forsake the dead,

And o’er a milder Zone your pinions spread ;

Queen of immortal song ! thy help I claim :

That harmony inspire, whose powerful strain

Struck mute the clamours of the hostile train,

Whose overthrow enhanc’d the MUSE’s fame.

III.

The Orient sapphire of the deep serene,

Spread her young glories o’er the op’ning scene,

Thro’ all the vast sublunar vault afar :

How soft was then the Zephyrean plume

Of morn ! to me escap’d the STYGIAN gloom,

And damp’d with many a scene of deep despair.

IV.

Now, twinkling clear, the harbinger of day

Look’d from his shrine, and all the East was gay ;

Her rising beam the wat’ry sign conceal’d :

( Hid, by excess of light,) I look’d around,

And spy’d, within the pale nocturnal bound,

Four stars in Paradise alone beheld.

V.

Alas ! how faintly gleams our Northern Pole,

Compar’d with these celestial orbs that roll

Their endless journey round the Southern sky !

Half dazzl’d with their beams, I turn’d again

To spy the Northern Charioteer in vain,

The Pole, and flaming guards escap’d mine eye.

VI.

When, lo ! before my wond’ring eyes appears,

In hoary majesty, an man of years,

On the world’s verge ; with holy rev’rence thrill’d :

I look’d ; his locks were sprinkl’d o’er with gray,

His silver beard upon his bosom lay,

His mien august with awe my bosom fill’d.

VII.

Th’ Antarctic light, wide hov’ring, seem’d to blend

Its living rays, and round his temples bend

A fiery diadem of various lights.

As half amaz’d, I met his scorching beam ;

“ Mortal !” he cry’d, “ how did you stem the stream,

That rolls in thunder down the gulph of night ?

VIII.

“ What guiding lamp, your direful progress led,

Thro’ the pale mansions of the sentenc’d dead,

When darkness hides the vale with dragon plume ?

Who dare infringe our everlasting laws ?

What vent’rous hand, the sentenc’d sinner draws

To my dread lodge, from Hell’s eternal gloom ?”

IX.

Awe-struck, I stood ; till many a signal, giv’n

By the harmonious messenger of Heav’n,

Taught me due homage to the hoary Sage.

Then answer’d he, “ Not of myself I came ;

A Saint, inspir’d by love’s eternal flame,

This wand’rer gave in charge ---a sacred pledge !

X.

“ But since I now perceive a strong desire

In thee, his former fortunes to enquire,

No wish of thine, by me shall e’er be cross’d :

This mortal never took a last survey

Of the glad precincts of the cheerful day,

Tho’ Frenzy drove him near to CHARON’s coast.

XI.

“ A few short journies of the circling Sun

Had nearly seen his race of folly run ;

The mandate from above a Cherub gave :

I came, commission’d thro’ the STYGIAN reign

To guide his steps, and shew the sentenc’d train,

No slighter means the wayward wretch could save.

XII.

“ I shew’d the penal Bands in sad review,

And now must leas him to the nobler crew ;

Who third the painful pass to life and light :

And shew between the living and the dead,

The toiling candidates of Heav’n, that tread

The steep ascent, thro’ many a fearful rite.

XIII.

“ Long were the labour, all his ’scapes to tell,

His dire encounters in the gulph of Hell ;

But thro’ the shadowy world, a mighty arm,

With giant wafture, bore deep to deep

His mortal weight, and up the thund’ring steep,

Thro’ many a dreadful gloom, and fiery storm.

XIV.

“ He came by instinct to this lonely shore,

Verging on Heav’n, to learn the genuine lore

Of Liberty, from him, who pour’d his blood

To ransom ROME from CAESAR’s regal yoke.

For HER, from life’s ignoble bonds you broke,

And to her sons the price of freedom shew’d.

XV.

“ The mangl’d form, which then you flung away,

Shall brave the thunder of the doomful day ;

All radiant rising from the yawning tomb :

Lover of Justice ! know that Heav’n’s decree

Was never yet infring’d by him or me ;

Still cloth’d in dust, he waits the final doom.

XVI.

“ I am a tenant of that lower Zone,

Where MARCIA dwells, who claim’d thee for her own ;

With thee content the sad reverse to share :

When ROME and FREEDOM totter’d to their fall,

O think from us you hear her sainted call,

And tend in gentler mood a suppliant pray’r.

XVII.

“ Permit us to explore our toilsome way,

Thro’ the seven penal climes that own thy sway ;

Then I, retiring to my dark sojourn,

Will shew your MARCIA in the fields of Fate,

The wonders of your Heav’n-appointed state,

If Fame you seek beyond the STYGIAN bourne.

XVIII.

“ Light of my eyes ! while yet she liv’d,” he cry’d,

“ No boon she crav’d in life, was e’er deny’d :

But other laws departed Spirits know :

Nor must I listen to the fervent pray’r

Of those, for ever sentenc’d to despair,

Whom ACHERON’s dull current keeps below.

XIX.

“ But should a messenger of Æther deign

To lead you ,thro’ the tenements of pain,

As you pretend ; let no insidious note

By adulation breath’d, your accents tune.

Suffice it, Heaven command ; I grant the boon ---

And hail the favour’d Mortal’s happy lot !

XX.

“ Go then, and where yon’ bank repels the wave,

A rushy girdle cull, and gently lave

His visage, with a wan eclipse o’ercast ;

Then cleanse him from these deep CIMMERIAN stains,

Contracted in those Heav’n-abandon’d plains,

Lest Heav’n’s bright Minister his course arrest.

XXI.

“ No vapour from the STYGIAN pool below

Must stain the pureness of that favour’d brow,

That hopes to pass his scrutinizing eye :

That soften’d soil beneath is known to feed,

With genial sap, the low and flexile reed,

That cinctures still, for souls contrite, supply.

XXII.

“ No shadowy forests here allure the sight,

No long, green alleys promise cool delight ;

Nor plant nor stem is here : of stubborn grain

The reed alone, that loves the wat’ry dale,

And bends with ev’ry motion of the gale,

Vests the low borders of the mystic plain.

XXIII.

“ To this low strand, your footsteps turn no more ;

The rising Sun, that soon will gild the shore,

Your passage up yon’ easy slope will guide.”

Thus spoke the Sage, and instant disappear’d ;

Slow rising from my knees, my looks I rear’d

To MANTUA’s Bard, for words were yet deny’d.

XXIV.

“ Follow my steps,” he cry’d, with mild command,

“ Whirl’d the water shelves the lowly strand,

With gentle slope descending to the main.”

He ceas’d, and pointed to the eastern sky ;

The pale wave trembl’d, in the morning eye,

Shedding her long beams o’er the wat’ry plain.

XXV.

Silent, we measur’d down the deep descent,

Like men on some ambiguous mission bent ;

That useless seems, till time its end display :

Now SOL’s ascending beams the dews exhale ;

I saw them mount upon the morning gale,

As if aspiring to eclipse the day.

XXVI.

“ Come ! ere the moment of lustration past,

Comdemn our sloth,” he cry’d, with pious haste ;

And stoop’d, to sweep away the morning dew.

I guess’d his purpose soon, and bending low,

My pallid face suffus’d with drops of woe,

I felt him cleanse the deep CIMMERIAN hue.

XXVII.

Refresh’d, at length we reach the fatal strand,

No vent’rous sailor e’er return’d to land,

That this water dip’d the parting oar :

The ready cincture there, my limbs embrac’d ;

Yet when the desolating hand had pass’d,

Embattled soon they rose, and clad the shore.

END OF THE FIRST CANTO.