Nathan the prophet, Metropolitan
Chrysostom, and Anselmo, and, who deign’d
To put his hand to the first art, Donatus. 
Raban is here:  and at my side there shines
Calabria’s abbot, Joachim , endow’d
With soul prophetic.  The bright courtesy
Of friar Thomas, and his goodly lore,
Have mov’d me to the blazon of a peer
So worthy, and with me have mov’d this throng.”

CANTO XIII

Let him, who would conceive what now I saw,
Imagine (and retain the image firm,
As mountain rock, the whilst he hears me speak),
Of stars fifteen, from midst the ethereal host
Selected, that, with lively ray serene,
O’ercome the massiest air:  thereto imagine
The wain, that, in the bosom of our sky,
Spins ever on its axle night and day,
With the bright summit of that horn which swells
Due from the pole, round which the first wheel rolls,
T’ have rang’d themselves in fashion of two signs
In heav’n, such as Ariadne made,
When death’s chill seized her; and that one of them
Did compass in the other’s beam; and both
In such sort whirl around, that each should tend
With opposite motion and, conceiving thus,
Of that true constellation, and the dance
Twofold, that circled me, he shall attain
As ’t were the shadow; for things there as much
Surpass our usage, as the swiftest heav’n
Is swifter than the Chiana.  There was sung
No Bacchus, and no Io Paean, but
Three Persons in the Godhead, and in one
Substance that nature and the human join’d. 
     The song fulfill’d its measure; and to us
Those saintly lights attended, happier made
At each new minist’ring.  Then silence brake,
Amid th’ accordant sons of Deity,
That luminary, in which the wondrous life
Of the meek man of God was told to me;
And thus it spake:  “One ear o’ th’ harvest thresh’d,
And its grain safely stor’d, sweet charity
Invites me with the other to like toil. 
     “Thou know’st, that in the bosom, whence the rib
Was ta’en to fashion that fair cheek, whose taste
All the world pays for, and in that, which pierc’d
By the keen lance, both after and before
Such satisfaction offer’d, as outweighs
Each evil in the scale, whate’er of light
To human nature is allow’d, must all
Have by his virtue been infus’d, who form’d
Both one and other:  and thou thence admir’st
In that I told thee, of beatitudes
A second, there is none, to his enclos’d
In the fifth radiance.  Open now thine eyes
To what I answer thee; and thou shalt see
Thy deeming and my saying meet in truth,
As centre in the round.  That which dies not,
And that which can die, are but each the beam
Of that idea, which our Soverign Sire
Engendereth loving; for that lively light,
Which passeth from his brightness; not disjoin’d
From him, nor from his love triune with them,