The rest conducted, one, upon whose front
Three eyes were seen.  In rear of all this group,
Two old men I beheld, dissimilar
In raiment, but in port and gesture like,
Solid and mainly grave; of whom the one
Did show himself some favour’d counsellor
Of the great Coan, him, whom nature made
To serve the costliest creature of her tribe. 
His fellow mark’d an opposite intent,
Bearing a sword, whose glitterance and keen edge,
E’en as I view’d it with the flood between,
Appall’d me.  Next four others I beheld,
Of humble seeming:  and, behind them all,
One single old man, sleeping, as he came,
With a shrewd visage.  And these seven, each
Like the first troop were habited, hut wore
No braid of lilies on their temples wreath’d. 
Rather with roses and each vermeil flower,
A sight, but little distant, might have sworn,
That they were all on fire above their brow. 
     Whenas the car was o’er against me, straight. 
Was heard a thund’ring, at whose voice it seem’d
The chosen multitude were stay’d; for there,
With the first ensigns, made they solemn halt.

CANTO XXX

Soon as the polar light, which never knows
Setting nor rising, nor the shadowy veil
Of other cloud than sin, fair ornament
Of the first heav’n, to duty each one there
Safely convoying, as that lower doth
The steersman to his port, stood firmly fix’d;
Forthwith the saintly tribe, who in the van
Between the Gryphon and its radiance came,
Did turn them to the car, as to their rest: 
And one, as if commission’d from above,
In holy chant thrice shorted forth aloud: 
“Come, spouse, from Libanus!” and all the rest
Took up the song—­At the last audit so
The blest shall rise, from forth his cavern each
Uplifting lightly his new-vested flesh,
As, on the sacred litter, at the voice
Authoritative of that elder, sprang
A hundred ministers and messengers
Of life eternal.  “Blessed thou! who com’st!”
And, “O,” they cried, “from full hands scatter ye
Unwith’ring lilies;” and, so saying, cast
Flowers over head and round them on all sides. 
     I have beheld, ere now, at break of day,
The eastern clime all roseate, and the sky
Oppos’d, one deep and beautiful serene,
And the sun’s face so shaded, and with mists
Attemper’d at lids rising, that the eye
Long while endur’d the sight:  thus in a cloud
Of flowers, that from those hands angelic rose,
And down, within and outside of the car,
Fell showering, in white veil with olive wreath’d,
A virgin in my view appear’d, beneath
Green mantle, rob’d in hue of living flame: 
And o’er my Spirit, that in former days
Within her presence had abode so long,
No shudd’ring terror crept.  Mine eyes no more
Had knowledge of her; yet there mov’d from her
A hidden virtue, at whose touch awak’d,