The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 13, No. 75, January, 1864

The glory and greatness of the living star
Which conquers there, as here below it conquered,
Athwart the heavens descended a bright sheen [98] (#x4_x_4_i237)
Formed in a circle like a coronal,
And cinctured it, and whirled itself about it.
Whatever melody most sweetly soundeth
On earth, and to itself most draws the soul,
Would seem a cloud that, rent asunder, thunders,
Compared unto the sounding of that lyre
Wherewith was crowned the sapphire beautiful,
Which gives the clearest heaven its sapphire hue. [106] (#x4_x_4_i238)
"I am Angelic Love, that circle round
The joy sublime which breathes from out the bosom
That was the hostelry of our Desire;
And I shall circle, Lady of Heaven, while
Thou followest thy Son, and mak'st diviner
The sphere supreme, because thou enterest it."
Thus did the circulated melody
Seal itself up; and all the other lights
Were making resonant the name of Mary.
The regal mantle of the volumes all [116] (#x4_x_4_i239)
Of that world, which most fervid is and living
With breath of God and with his works and ways,
Extended over us its inner curve,
So very distant, that its outward show,
There where I was, not yet appeared to me.
Therefore mine eyes did not possess the power
Of following the incoronated flame,
Which had ascended near to its own seed.
And as a little child, that towards its mother
Extends its arms, when it the milk has taken,
Through impulse kindled into outward flame,
Each of those gleams of white did upward stretch
So with its summit, that the deep affection
They had for Mary was revealed to me.
Thereafter they remained there in my sight,
Regina cœli singing with such sweetness, [132] (#x4_x_4_i240)
That ne'er from me has the delight departed.
Oh, what exuberance is garnered up
In those resplendent coffers, which had been
For sowing here below good husbandmen!
There they enjoy and live upon the treasure [137] (#x4_x_4_i241)
Which was acquired while weeping in the exile
Of Babylon, wherein the gold was left.

There triumpheth beneath the exalted Son
Of God and Mary, in his victory,
Both with the ancient council and the new,
He who doth keep the keys of such a glory. [143] (#x4_x_4_i242)

[Line 1: Dante is with Beatrice in the eighth circle, that of the fixed stars. She is gazing upwards, watching for the descent of the Triumph of Christ.]

[Line 12: Under the meridian, or at noon, the shadows being shorter move slower, and, therefore the sun seems less in haste.]

[Line 21: By the beneficent influences of the stars.]

[Line 29: The old belief that the stars were fed by the light of the sun. So Milton,—

"Hither, as to their fountain, other stars
Repair, and in their golden urns draw light."

Here the stars are souls, the sun is Christ.]

[Line 45: Beatrice speaks.]

[Line 55: The Muse of harmony and singing.]

[Line 72: The rose is the Virgin Mary, Rosa Mundi, Rosa Mystica; the lilies are the Apostles and other saints.]

[Line 78: The struggle between his eyes and the light.]

[Line 89: Christ reascends, that Dante's dazzled eyes, too feeble to bear the light of his presence, may behold the splendors around him.

The greater fire is the Virgin Mary, greater than any of those remaining. She is the living star, surpassing in brightness all other souls in heaven, as she did here on earth: Stella Maris, Stella Matutina.]

[Line 98: The Angel Gabriel, or Angelic Love.]

[Line 106: Sapphire is the color in which the old painters arrayed the Virgin.]

[Line 116: The regal mantle of all the volumes, or rolling orbs, of the world is the crystalline heaven, or Primus Mobile, which infolds all the others like a mantle.]

[Line 132: Easter hymn to the Virgin.]

[Line 137: Caring not for gold in the Babylonian exile of this life, they laid up treasures in the other.]

[Line 143: St. Peter, keeper of the keys, with the holy men of the Old and the New Testament.]

CANTO XXIV

"O company elect to the great supper [1] (#x5_x_5_i157)
Of the Lamb glorified, who feedeth you
So that forever full is your desire,
If by the grace of God this man foretastes
Of whatsoever falleth from your table,
Or ever death prescribes to him the time,
Direct your mind to his immense desire, [7] (#x5_x_5_i158)
And him somewhat bedew; ye drinking are
Forever from the fount whence comes his thought." [9] (#x5_x_5_i159)
Thus Beatrice; and those enraptured spirits
Made themselves spheres around their steadfast poles,