That soldiery of the celestial kingdom Which marched in the advance had wholly passed us Before the chariot had turned its pole. Then to the wheels the maidens turned themselves, And the Griffin moved his burden benedight, But so that not a feather of him fluttered. The lady fair who drew me through the ford Followed with Statius and myself the wheel Which made its orbit with the lesser arc. So passing through the lofty forest, vacant By fault of her who in the serpent trusted, Angelic music made our steps keep time. Perchance as great a space had in three flights An arrow loosened from the string o’erpassed, 1150 As we had moved when Beatrice descended. I heard them murmur altogether, “Adam!” Then circled they about a tree despoiled 1151 Of blooms and other leafage on each bough. Its tresses, which so much the more dilate As higher they ascend, had been by Indians 1152 Among their forests marvelled at for height.