And said my Master: “Ye can go your way
And carry back again to those who sent you,
That this one’s body is of very flesh.
If they stood still because they saw his shadow,
As I suppose, enough is answered them;
Him let them honour, it may profit them.”
Vapours enkindled saw I ne’er so swiftly
At early nightfall cleave the air serene,
Nor, at the set of sun, the clouds of August,
But upward they returned in briefer time,
And, on arriving, with the others wheeled
Tow’rds us, like troops that run without a rein.
“This folk that presses unto us is great,
And cometh to implore thee,” said the Poet;
“So still go onward, and in going listen.”
“O soul that goest to beatitude
With the same members wherewith thou wast born,”
Shouting they came, “a little stay thy steps,
Look, if thou e’er hast any of us seen,
So that o’er yonder thou bear news of him;
Ah, why dost thou go on? Ah, why not stay?
Long since we all were slain by violence,
And sinners even to the latest hour;
Then did a light from heaven admonish us,
So that, both penitent and pardoning, forth
From life we issued reconciled to God,
Who with desire to see Him stirs our hearts.”
And I: “Although I gaze into your faces,
No one I recognize; but if may please you
Aught I have power to do, ye well-born spirits,