Canto XIX

creature, By not awaiting light fell immature. And hence appears it, that each minor nature Is scant receptacle unto that good Which has no end, and by itself is measured. In consequence our vision, which perforce Must be some ray of that intelligence With which all things whatever are replete, Cannot in its own nature be so potent, That it shall not its origin discern Far beyond that which is apparent to it. Therefore into the justice sempiternal The power of vision that your world receives, As eye into the ocean, penetrates; Which, though it see the bottom near the shore, Upon the deep perceives it not, and yet ’Tis there, but it is hidden by the depth. There is no light but comes from the serene That never is o’ercast, nay, it is darkness Or shadow of the flesh, or else its poison. Amply to thee is opened now the cavern Which has concealed from thee the living justice Of which thou mad’st such frequent questioning. For saidst thou: ‘Born a man is on the shore Of Indus, and is none who there can speak Of Christ, nor who can read, nor who can write; And all his inclinations and his actions Are good, so far as human reason sees, Without a sin in life or in discourse: He dieth unbaptised and without faith; Where is this justice that condemneth him? Where is his fault, if he do not believe?’ Now who art thou, that on the bench wouldst sit In judgment at a thousand miles away, With the short vision of a single span? Truly to him who with me subtilizes, If so the Scripture were not over you, For doubting there were marvellous occasion. O animals terrene, O stolid minds, The primal will, that in itself is good, Ne’er from itself, the Good Supreme, has moved. So much is just as is accordant with it; No good created draws it to itself, But it, by raying forth, occasions that.” Even as above her nest goes circling round The stork when she has fed her little ones, And he who has been fed looks up at her, So lifted I my brows, and even such Became the blessed image, which its wings Was moving, by so many counsels urged. Circling around it sang, and said: “As are My notes to thee, who dost not comprehend them, Such is the eternal judgment to you mortals.” Those lucent splendors of the Holy Spirit Grew quiet then, but still within the standard That made the Romans reverend to