(4) "O manhood mine, why dost thou vanish so?" I said within myself; for I perceived The vigour of my legs was put in truce. We at the point were where no more ascends The stairway upward, and were motionless, Even as a ship, which at the shore arrives; And I gave heed a little, if I might hear Aught whatsoever in the circle new; Then to my Master turned me round and said: "Say, my sweet Father, what delinquency Is purged here in the circle where we are? Although our feet may pause, pause not thy speech." And he to me: "The love of good, remiss In what it should have done, is here restored; Here plied again the ill-belated oar; But still more openly to understand, Turn unto me thy mind, and thou shalt gather Some profitable fruit from our delay. Neither Creator nor a creature ever, Son," he began, "was destitute of love Natural or spiritual; and thou knowest it. The natural was ever without error; But err the other may by evil object, Or by too much, or by too little vigour.

(6) Hereby shall we order our outward man, and all that is contrary to these virtues we must eschew and flee from. But if our inward man were to make a leap and spring into the Perfect, we should find and taste how that the Perfect is without measure, number or end, better and nobler than all which is imperfect and in part, and the Eternal above the temporal or perishable, and the fountain and source above all that floweth or can ever flow from it. Thus that which is imperfect and in part would become tasteless and be as nothing to us. Be assured of this: All that we have said must come to pass if we are to love that which is noblest, highest and best.

(3) Now ope thine eyes to what I answer thee, And thou shalt see thy creed and my discourse Fit in the truth as centre in a circle. That which can die, and that which dieth not, Are nothing but the splendour of the idea Which by his love our Lord brings into being; Because that living Light, which from its fount Effulgent flows, so that it disunites not From Him nor from the Love in them intrined, Through its own goodness reunites its rays In nine subsistences, as in a mirror, Itself eternally remaining One. Thence it descends to the last potencies, Downward from act to act becoming such That only brief contingencies it makes; And these contingencies I hold to be Things generated, which the heaven produces By its own motion, with seed and without. Neither their wax, nor that which tempers it, Remains immutable, and hence beneath The ideal signet more and less shines through; Therefore it happens, that the selfsame tree After its kind bears worse and better fruit, And ye are born with characters diverse.

(6) And there are those whom injury seems to chafe, So that it makes them greedy for revenge, And such must needs shape out another's harm. This threefold love is wept for down below; Now of the other will I have thee hear, That runneth after good with measure faulty. Each one confusedly a good conceives Wherein the mind may rest, and longeth for it; Therefore to overtake it each one strives. If languid love to look on this attract you, Or in attaining unto it, this cornice, After just penitence, torments you for it. There's other good that does not make man happy; 'Tis not felicity, 'tis not the good Essence, of every good the fruit and root. The love that yields itself too much to this Above us is lamented in three circles; But how tripartite it may be described, I say not, that thou seek it for thyself."

(26) And if the Love of God (which so dearly loved the Image of Man, that itself is become Man) did not stand in the Center of the Mind in the [Midst or] Point of Separation, then Man had been a living Devil, and he is indeed such a one, when he despises the Regeneration, and i goes on according to the inbred Nature of the first and third Principles.

(43) Further mark ye; that when the True Love and True Light are in a man, the Perfect Good is known and loved for itself and as itself; and yet not so that it loveth itself of itself and as itself, but the one True and Perfect Good can and will love nothing else, in so far as it is in itself, save the one, true Goodness. Now if this is itself, it must love itself, yet not as itself nor as of itself, but in this wise: that the One true Good loveth the One Perfect Goodness, and the One Perfect Goodness is loved of the One, true and Perfect Good. And in this sense that saying is true, that “God loveth not Himself as Himself.” For if there were ought better than God, God would love that, and not Himself. For in this True Light and True Love there neither is nor can remain any I, Me, Mine, Thou, Thine, and the like, but that Light perceiveth and knoweth that there is a Good which is all Good and above all Good, and that all good things are of one substance in the One Good, and that without that One, there is no good thing. And therefore, where this Light is, the man’s end and aim is not this or that, Me or Thee, or the like, but only the One, who is neither I nor Thou, this nor that, but is above all I and Thou, this and that; and in Him all Goodness is loved as One Good, according to that saying: “All in One as One, and One in All as All, and One and all Good, is loved through the One in One, and for the sake of the One, for the love that man hath to the One.” Behold, in such a man must all thought of Self, all self-seeking, self-will, and what cometh thereof, be utterly lost and surrendered and given over to God, except in so far as they are necessary to make up a person. And whatever cometh to pass in a man who is truly Godlike, whether he do or suffer, all is done in this Light and this Love, and from the same, through the same, unto the same again. And in his heart there is a content and a quietness, so that he doth not desire to know more or less, to have, to live, to die, to be, or not to be, or anything of the kind; these become all one and alike to him, and he complaineth of nothing but of sin only. And what sin is, we have said already, namely, to desire or will anything otherwise than the One Perfect Good and the One Eternal Will, and apart from and contrary to them, or to wish to have a will of one’s own.

(17) The Propagation of the Love is most especially to be observed, for it is the loveliest, pleasantest, and sweetest Fountain of all. When the Love generates again a whole Birth, with all the Fountains of the original Essences out of itself, so that the Love in all the a springing Veins in that new Birth is predominant and chief, so that a Center arises therein, then the first Essence, vis. the Tartness, is wholly desirous or longing, wholly sweet, wholly light, and gives itself forth to be Food to all the Qualities, with a hearty Affection towards them all, as a loving Mother has towards her Children, and here the Bitterness may be rightly called Joy, for it is the Rising or Moving [thereof.] What Joy there is here, there is no other Similitude of it, than when a Man is suddenly and unexpectedly delivered out of the Pain and Torment of Hell, and put into the Light of the Divine Joy.

(43) Now it was the Love that became Man, and had put on our human Soul; and the Soul was enlightened from the Love, and stood with its Root in the Anger, as in the strong Might of the Father; and now the new Man in the Love commended the Soul to the Father into his Might, and yielded up the earthly Life, [which proceeded] from the Constellations and Elements, viz. the Kingdom of this World; and so the Soul now stood no more in the Kingdom of this World, in the Source of Life, but it stood in Death; for the Kingdom of this World, the Blower up [of Life] the Air, was gone.

(1) Looking into his Son with all the Love Which each of them eternally breathes forth, The Primal and unutterable Power Whate'er before the mind or eye revolves With so much order made, there can be none Who this beholds without enjoying Him. Lift up then, Reader, to the lofty wheels With me thy vision straight unto that part Where the one motion on the other strikes, And there begin to contemplate with joy That Master's art, who in himself so loves it That never doth his eye depart therefrom. Behold how from that point goes branching off The oblique circle, which conveys the planets, To satisfy the world that calls upon them; And if their pathway were not thus inflected, Much virtue in the heavens would be in vain, And almost every power below here dead. If from the straight line distant more or less Were the departure, much would wanting be Above and underneath of mundane order. Remain now, Reader, still upon thy bench, In thought pursuing that which is foretasted, If thou wouldst jocund be instead of weary.

(1) O Thou insensate care of mortal men, How inconclusive are the syllogisms That make thee beat thy wings in downward flight! One after laws and one to aphorisms Was going, and one following the priesthood, And one to reign by force or sophistry, And one in theft, and one in state affairs, One in the pleasures of the flesh involved Wearied himself, one gave himself to ease; When I, from all these things emancipate, With Beatrice above there in the Heavens With such exceeding glory was received! When each one had returned unto that point Within the circle where it was before, It stood as in a candlestick a candle; And from within the effulgence which at first Had spoken unto me, I heard begin Smiling while it more luminous became: "Even as I am kindled in its ray, So, looking into the Eternal Light, The occasion of thy thoughts I apprehend. Thou doubtest, and wouldst have me to resift In language so extended and so open My speech, that to thy sense it may be plain,

(3) And close to me approached, even as before, The very same who had entreated me, Attent to listen in their countenance. I, who their inclination twice had seen, Began: "O souls secure in the possession, Whene'er it may be, of a state of peace, Neither unripe nor ripened have remained My members upon earth, but here are with me With their own blood and their articulations. I go up here to be no longer blind; A Lady is above, who wins this grace, Whereby the mortal through your world I bring. But as your greatest longing satisfied May soon become, so that the Heaven may house you Which full of love is, and most amply spreads, Tell me, that I again in books may write it, Who are you, and what is that multitude Which goes upon its way behind your backs?" Not otherwise with wonder is bewildered The mountaineer, and staring round is dumb, When rough and rustic to the town he goes, Than every shade became in its appearance; But when they of their stupor were disburdened, Which in high hearts is quickly quieted,

(5) For of a righteous will his own is made. He, sooth to say, for three months past has taken Whoever wished to enter with all peace; Whence I, who now had turned unto that shore Where salt the waters of the Tiber grow, Benignantly by him have been received. Unto that outlet now his wing is pointed, Because for evermore assemble there Those who tow'rds Acheron do not descend." And I: "If some new law take not from thee Memory or practice of the song of love, Which used to quiet in me all my longings, Thee may it please to comfort therewithal Somewhat this soul of mine, that with its body Hitherward coming is so much distressed." "Love, that within my mind discourses with me," Forthwith began he so melodiously, The melody within me still is sounding. My Master, and myself, and all that people Which with him were, appeared as satisfied As if naught else might touch the mind of any. We all of us were moveless and attentive Unto his notes; and lo! the grave old man, Exclaiming: "What is this, ye laggard spirits?

(4) If I was merely what of me thou newly Createdst, Love who governest the heaven, Thou knowest, who didst lift me with thy light! When now the wheel, which thou dost make eternal Desiring thee, made me attentive to it By harmony thou dost modulate and measure, Then seemed to me so much of heaven enkindled By the sun's flame, that neither rain nor river E'er made a lake so widely spread abroad. The newness of the sound and the great light Kindled in me a longing for their cause, Never before with such acuteness felt; Whence she, who saw me as I saw myself, To quiet in me my perturbed mind, Opened her mouth, ere I did mine to ask, And she began: "Thou makest thyself so dull With false imagining, that thou seest not What thou wouldst see if thou hadst shaken it off. Thou art not upon earth, as thou believest; But lightning, fleeing its appropriate site, Ne'er ran as thou, who thitherward returnest." If of my former doubt I was divested By these brief little words more smiled than spoken, I in a new one was the more ensnared;

(4) "I see full well," said I, "O sacred lamp! How love unfettered in this court sufficeth To follow the eternal Providence; But this is what seems hard for me to see, Wherefore predestinate wast thou alone Unto this office from among thy consorts." No sooner had I come to the last word, Than of its middle made the light a centre, Whirling itself about like a swift millstone. When answer made the love that was therein: "On me directed is a light divine, Piercing through this in which I am embosomed, Of which the virtue with my sight conjoined Lifts me above myself so far, I see The supreme essence from which this is drawn. Hence comes the joyfulness with which I flame, For to my sight, as far as it is clear, The clearness of the flame I equal make. But that soul in the heaven which is most pure, That seraph which his eye on God most fixes, Could this demand of thine not satisfy; Because so deeply sinks in the abyss Of the eternal statute what thou askest, From all created sight it is cut off.

(1) An end had put unto his reasoning The lofty Teacher, and attent was looking Into my face, if I appeared content; And I, whom a new thirst still goaded on, Without was mute, and said within: "Perchance The too much questioning I make annoys him." But that true Father, who had comprehended The timid wish, that opened not itself, By speaking gave me hardihood to speak. Whence I: "My sight is, Master, vivified So in thy light, that clearly I discern Whate'er thy speech importeth or describes. Therefore I thee entreat, sweet Father dear, To teach me love, to which thou dost refer Every good action and its contrary." "Direct," he said, "towards me the keen eyes Of intellect, and clear will be to thee The error of the blind, who would be leaders. The soul, which is created apt to love, Is mobile unto everything that pleases, Soon as by pleasure she is waked to action. Your apprehension from some real thing An image draws, and in yourselves displays it So that it makes the soul turn unto it.

(5) 'Twas not to know the number in which are The motors here above, or if 'necesse' With a contingent e'er 'necesse' make, 'Non si est dare primum motum esse,' Or if in semicircle can be made Triangle so that it have no right angle. Whence, if thou notest this and what I said, A regal prudence is that peerless seeing In which the shaft of my intention strikes. And if on 'rose' thou turnest thy clear eyes, Thou'lt see that it has reference alone To kings who're many, and the good are rare. With this distinction take thou what I said, And thus it can consist with thy belief Of the first father and of our Delight. And lead shall this be always to thy feet, To make thee, like a weary man, move slowly Both to the Yes and No thou seest not; For very low among the fools is he Who affirms without distinction, or denies, As well in one as in the other case; Because it happens that full often bends Current opinion in the false direction, And then the feelings bind the intellect.

(18) Thirdly, there comes the third Regimen to the Imaging [or Forming] of the Word, from the Spirit of the Stars and Elements, and it mingles itself in the House and Senses of the Mind, and desires to form the Word from the Might of its own Self, for it has i great Power, it holds the whole Man captive, and it has clothed him with Flesh and Blood, and it infects the Will of the Mind, and the Will discovers itself in the Spirit of this World, in Lust and Beauty, Might and Power, Riches and Glory, Pleasure and Joy; and on the contrary, in Sorrow and Misery, Cares and Poverty, Pain and Sickness: Also in Art and Wisdom; and on the contrary, in Folly and Ignorance.

(41) And my body learnt from the soul its mode of journeying, Now my body has renounced the bodily mode of journeying; It journeys secretly and without form, though under a form." He added, "One day I was thus filled with longing To behold in human form the splendours of 'The Friend,' To witness the Ocean gathered up into a drop, The Sun compressed into a single atom; And when I drew near to the shore of the sea The day was drawing to a close." In the adorations and benedictions of righteous men

(51) Not that the light of the heart of God in its innermost birth is imprisoned: No; but the lustre and the shining thereof, in the third birth or geniture, was incorporated with, and in, the outermost comprehensibility; and therefore it is that men are in love with all those things which stand in that Salitter.

(17) The first will fashion it according to its fierce Might and Pomp, and mingles therein prickly [stinging] Sourness, Wrath and Malice. And the second Principle with the Virgin stands in the Midst, and sheds its Rays of loving Meekness therein, and resists the first [Principle.] And if the Spirit be kindled in that, then the Word is wholly gentle, friendly, and humble, and inclines itself to the Love of our Neighbour; it desires not to seize upon any with the haughty Sting [or Prickle] of the first Principle, but it covers the Prickles of the Thorns, and qualifies the Word with Clearness [and Plainness,] and arms the Tongue with Righteousness and Truth, and it sheds abroad its Rays, even into the Will of the Heart. And when the Will receives the pleasant friendly Rays of Love, then it kindles the whole Mind with the Love, Righteousness, Chastity of the Virgin, and the Truth of all those Things that are by all Regions tried upon the Tongue. And thus it together with the five Senses makes the Tongue shrill, and [thereby] the dear Image of God appears inwardly and outwardly, so that it may be heard and seen in the whole % Abyss, what Form it is of. O Man! behold what the Light of Nature discovers to thee.