Not all our ancient mother forfeited,
All Eden, could prevent my dew cleansed cheek
From changing whiteness to a tearful red."
(Purg. XXX, 45, Grandgent's trans.)
One quality is still necessary to complete the picture which our poet
gives of himself. So far we see him as a man of strong faith, of abiding
intensity--a man having supreme confidence in himself with resulting
pride of life, a man big with splendid sincerity and dowered with deep
passion, yet manifesting a gentle, gracious and grateful spirit. So
composed, he is a combination of virtues that may inspire and traits
that may attract many readers. But this is not the finished picture of
the strangely fascinating man who has for six hundred years exercised an
irresistible sway over hearts and minds. What feature is lacking? The
one which has made him master over willing subjects who love and admire
him whether they live in a monarchy or republic, a hovel or a palace,
whether they are of his faith or alien to it. Because the world ever
loves a lover, and because Dante is The Lover _par excellence_ whose
love-story is one "to which heaven and earth have put their hand," he
stands forth with a hold on humanity that is both enduring and supreme.
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