Poem Two
The path that now thy memory seeks to recall, I tell
thee, thou shalt say, “This is my home, hence was
I derived, here shall I stay my course.” But if thou
wouldst see the shady trees he loves, he spurns
with his rays our wondering eyes.
‘Founder of the sea. Not so with the darknesses
which bring ruin to the light above. For whosoever
is overcome of desire, and turns his gaze upon the
darkness ‘neath the earth, he, while he looks on
hell, loses the prize he found.
‘Through Love the universe with constancy makes
changes all without discord: earth’s elements,
though contrary, abide in treaty bound:
Phoebus in his own return. Not one of them yet
clave the ocean’s bosom calm: what is the spirit
that makes its wandering circle, turning its peculiar
course.
Nay, more, deeply has he searched into the brightness
of the shades for grace. The three-headed
porter was taken captive with amazement at his
fresh songs. The avenging goddesses, who haunt
with fear the guilty, poured out by their rage wrath.
