If e’er the sacred poem that hath made
Both heav’n and earth copartners in its toil,
And with lean abstinence, through many a year,
Faded my brow, be destin’d to prevail
Over the cruelty, which bars me forth
Of the fair sheep-fold, where a sleeping lamb
The wolves set on and fain had worried me,
With other voice and fleece of other grain
I shall forthwith return, and, standing up
At my baptismal font, shall claim the wreath
Due to the poet’s temples:  for I there
First enter’d on the faith which maketh souls
Acceptable to God:  and, for its sake,
Peter had then circled my forehead thus. 
     Next from the squadron, whence had issued forth
The first fruit of Christ’s vicars on the earth,
Toward us mov’d a light, at view whereof
My Lady, full of gladness, spake to me: 
“Lo! lo! behold the peer of mickle might,
That makes Falicia throng’d with visitants!”
     As when the ring-dove by his mate alights,
In circles each about the other wheels,
And murmuring cooes his fondness; thus saw I
One, of the other great and glorious prince,
With kindly greeting hail’d, extolling both
Their heavenly banqueting; but when an end
Was to their gratulation, silent, each,
Before me sat they down, so burning bright,
I could not look upon them.  Smiling then,
Beatrice spake:  “O life in glory shrin’d!”
Who didst the largess of our kingly court
Set down with faithful pen! let now thy voice
Of hope the praises in this height resound. 
For thou, who figur’st them in shapes, as clear,
As Jesus stood before thee, well can’st speak them.” 
     “Lift up thy head, and be thou strong in trust: 
For that, which hither from the mortal world
Arriveth, must be ripen’d in our beam.” 
     Such cheering accents from the second flame
Assur’d me; and mine eyes I lifted up
Unto the mountains that had bow’d them late
With over-heavy burden.  “Sith our Liege
Wills of his grace that thou, or ere thy death,
In the most secret council, with his lords
Shouldst be confronted, so that having view’d
The glories of our court, thou mayst therewith
Thyself, and all who hear, invigorate
With hope, that leads to blissful end; declare,
What is that hope, how it doth flourish in thee,
And whence thou hadst it?” Thus proceeding still,
The second light:  and she, whose gentle love
My soaring pennons in that lofty flight
Escorted, thus preventing me, rejoin’d: 
Among her sons, not one more full of hope,
Hath the church militant:  so ’t is of him
Recorded in the sun, whose liberal orb
Enlighteneth all our tribe:  and ere his term
Of warfare, hence permitted he is come,
From Egypt to Jerusalem, to see. 
The other points, both which thou hast inquir’d,
Not for more knowledge, but that he may tell
How dear thou holdst the virtue, these to him
Leave I; for he may answer thee with ease,