Canto XXXI

she, the Queen of Heaven, for whom I burn Wholly with love, will grant us every grace, Because that I her faithful Bernard am.” As he who peradventure from Croatia Cometh to gaze at our Veronica, Who through its ancient fame is never sated, But says in thought, the while it is displayed, “My Lord, Christ Jesus, God of very God, Now was your semblance made like unto this?” Even such was I while gazing at the living Charity of the man, who in this world By contemplation tasted of that peace. “Thou son of grace, this jocund life,” began he, “Will not be known to thee by keeping ever Thine eyes below here on the lowest place; But mark the circles to the most remote, Until thou shalt behold enthroned the Queen To whom this realm is subject and devoted.” I lifted up mine eyes, and as at morn The oriental part of the horizon Surpasses that wherein the sun goes down, Thus, as if going with mine eyes from vale To mount, I saw a part in the remoteness Surpass in splendor all the other front. And even as there where we await the pole That Phaeton drove badly, blazes more The light, and is on either side diminished, So likewise that pacific oriflamme Gleamed brightest in the centre, and each side In equal measure did the flame abate. And at that centre, with their wings expanded, More than a thousand jubilant Angels saw I, Each differing in effulgence and in kind. I saw there at their sports and at their songs A beauty smiling, which the gladness was Within the eyes of all the other saints; And if I had in speaking as much wealth As in imagining, I should not dare To attempt the smallest part of its delight. Bernard, as soon as he beheld mine eyes Fixed and intent upon its fervid fervor, His own with such affection turned to her That it made mine more ardent to behold.