(11) Be not afraid, be not bewildered, on seeing this terrific form of Mine. Free from fear and glad at heart, behold again My other form.

(2) But all other comforts, sounds and gladness and sweetness, that come from without suddenly and thou wottest never whence, I pray thee have them suspect. For they may be both good and evil; wrought by a good angel if they be good, and by an evil angel if they be evil. And this may on nowise be evil, if their deceits of curiosity of wit, and of unordained straining of the fleshly heart be removed as I learn thee, or better if thou better mayest. And why is that? Surely for the cause of this comfort; that is to say, the devout stirring of love, the which dwelleth in pure spirit. It is wrought of the hand of Almighty God without means, and therefore it behoveth always be far from any fantasy, or any false opinion that may befall to man in this life.

(3) And of the tother comforts and sounds and sweetness, how thou shouldest wit whether they be good or evil I think not to tell thee at this time: and that is because me think that it needeth not. For why, thou mayest find it written in another place of another man’s work, a thousandfold better than I can say or write: and so mayest thou this that I set here, far better than it is here. But what thereof? Therefore shall I not let, nor it shall not noye me, to fulfil the desire and the stirring of thine heart; the which thou hast shewed thee to have unto me before this time in thy words, and now in thy deeds.

(6) And for this reason it is that I bid thee put down such a sharp subtle thought, and cover him with a thick cloud of forgetting, be he never so holy nor promise he thee never so well for to help thee in thy purpose. For why, love may reach to God in this life, but not knowing. And all the whiles that the soul dwelleth in this deadly body, evermore is the sharpness of our understanding in beholding of all ghostly things, but most specially of God, mingled with some manner of fantasy; for the which our work should be unclean. And unless more wonder were, it should lead us into much error.

(38) Hast thou been a proud vain-glorious, selfishly Potent, and one that has for thy Pleasure Sake oppressed the Needy, then such a Spirit goes forth from thee, and then so it is in the Eternity, where it can neither keep nor get any Thing for [to feed] its Covetousness, neither can it adorn its Body with any Thing, but with that which is there, and yet it climbs up eternally in its Pride, for there is no other Source in it; and thus in its Rising it reaches into nothing else but the stern Might of the Fire in its Elevation; it inclines itself in its Will continually in such a Purpose as it did in this World; as it was wont to do here, so all appears in its Tincture, therein itclimbs up eternally in the Abyss of Hell.

(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;

(3) I say not that it shall ever last and dwell in all their minds continually, that be called to work in this work. Nay, so is it not. For from a young ghostly prentice in this work, the actual feeling thereof is ofttimes withdrawn for divers reasons. Sometime, for he shall not take over presumptuously thereupon, and ween that it be in great part in his own power to have it when him list, and as him list. And such a weening were pride. And evermore when the feeling of grace is withdrawn, pride is the cause: not ever pride that is, but pride that should be, were it not that this feeling of grace were withdrawn. And thus ween ofttimes some young fools, that God is their enemy; when He is their full friend.

(4) And I would be free of fear that I may be able to draw near to Thee, and to be satisfied with little, practising Thy just choice between things good and things like.

(2) And look thou have no wonder of this: for mightest thou once see it as clearly, as thou mayest by grace come to for to grope it and feel it in this life, thou wouldest think as I say. But be thou sure that clear sight shall never man have here in this life: but the feeling may men have through grace when God vouchsafeth. And therefore lift up thy love to that cloud: rather, if I shall say thee sooth, let God draw thy love up to that cloud and strive thou through help of His grace to forget all other thing.

(2) "Marvel thou not," she said to me, "because I smile at this thy puerile conceit, Since on the truth it trusts not yet its foot, But turns thee, as 'tis wont, on emptiness. True substances are these which thou beholdest, Here relegate for breaking of some vow. Therefore speak with them, listen and believe; For the true light, which giveth peace to them, Permits them not to turn from it their feet." And I unto the shade that seemed most wishful To speak directed me, and I began, As one whom too great eagerness bewilders: "O well-created spirit, who in the rays Of life eternal dost the sweetness taste Which being untasted ne'er is comprehended, Grateful 'twill be to me, if thou content me Both with thy name and with your destiny." Whereat she promptly and with laughing eyes: "Our charity doth never shut the doors Against a just desire, except as one Who wills that all her court be like herself. I was a virgin sister in the world; And if thy mind doth contemplate me well, The being more fair will not conceal me from thee,

(5) Then will He sometimes peradventure send out a beam of ghostly light, piercing this cloud of unknowing that is betwixt thee and Him; and shew thee some of His privity, the which man may not, nor cannot speak. Then shalt thou feel thine affection inflamed with the fire of His love, far more than I can tell thee, or may or will at this time. For of that work, that falleth to only God, dare I not take upon me to speak with my blabbering fleshly tongue: and shortly to say, although I durst I would do not. But of that work that falleth to man when he feeleth him stirred and helped by grace, list me well tell thee: for therein is the less peril of the two.

(7) We paused immovable and in suspense, Even as the shepherds who first heard that song, Until the trembling ceased, and it was finished. Then we resumed again our holy path, Watching the shades that lay upon the ground, Already turned to their accustomed plaint. No ignorance ever with so great a strife Had rendered me importunate to know, If erreth not in this my memory, As meditating then I seemed to have; Nor out of haste to question did I dare, Nor of myself I there could aught perceive; So I went onward timorous and thoughtful.

(2) And one reason is this, why that I bid thee hide from God the desire of thine heart. For I hope it should more clearly come to His knowing, for thy profit and in fulfilling of thy desire, by such an hiding, than it should by any other manner of shewing that I trow thou couldest yet shew. And another reason is, for I would by such a hid shewing bring thee out of the boisterousness of bodily feeling into the purity and deepness of ghostly feeling; and so furthermore at the last to help thee to knit the ghostly knot of burning love betwixt thee and thy God, in ghostly onehead and according of will.

(1) LOOK thou have no wonder why that I speak thus childishly, and as it were follily and lacking natural discretion; for I do it for certain reasons, and as me thinketh that I have been stirred many days, both to feel thus and think thus and say thus, as well to some other of my special friends in God, as I am now unto thee.

(1) MY beloved Reader, we tell thee this, that all Things from the Original of the Essence of all Essences (every Thing from its Originality) has its Driving [or Impulse] in its own Form; and it always makes that very Thing, with which the Spirit is impregnated; the Body must always labour in that wherein the Spirit is kindled. When I consider and think, why I write thus [many Wonders,] and leave them not for other sharper Wits, I find that my Spirit is kindled in this Matter, whereof I write; for there is a living running Fire of these Things in my Spirit, and thereupon (let me purpose what I will) yet this Thing continually moves and swims on the Top, and so I am captivated therewith in my Spirit; and it is laid upon me as a Work which I must exercise. Therefore seeing it is my Work that my Spirit drives, I will write it down for a Memorial, in such a Manner, as I know it in my Spirit, and in such a Manner as I attained to it, and I will set down no strange Thing, which myself have not tried [and known,] that I be not found a liar concerning myself before God.

(4) So at the sight of me stood motionless Those fortunate spirits, all of them, as if Oblivious to go and make them fair. One from among them saw I coming forward, As to embrace me, with such great affection, That it incited me to do the like. O empty shadows, save in aspect only! Three times behind it did I clasp my hands, As oft returned with them to my own breast! I think with wonder I depicted me; Whereat the shadow smiled and backward drew; And I, pursuing it, pressed farther forward. Gently it said that I should stay my steps; Then knew I who it was, and I entreated That it would stop awhile to speak with me. It made reply to me: "Even as I loved thee In mortal body, so I love thee free; Therefore I stop; but wherefore goest thou?" "My own Casella! to return once more There where I am, I make this journey," said I; "But how from thee has so much time be taken?" And he to me: "No outrage has been done me, If he who takes both when and whom he pleases Has many times denied to me this passage,

(15) And the soul said, Why do you judge me, although I have not judged?

(1) NEVERTHELESS, somewhat of this subtlety shall I tell thee as me think. Prove thou and do better, if thou better mayest. Do that in thee is, to let be as thou wist not that they press so fast upon thee betwixt thee and thy God. And try to look as it were over their shoulders, seeking another thing: the which thing is God, enclosed in a cloud of unknowing. And if thou do thus, I trow that within short time thou shalt be eased of thy travail. I trow that an this device be well and truly conceived, it is nought else but a longing desire unto God, to feel Him and see Him as it may be here: and such a desire is charity, and it obtaineth always to be eased.

(1) MORE devices tell I thee not at this time; for an thou have grace to feel the proof of these, I trow that thou shalt know better to learn me than I thee. For although it should be thus, truly yet me think that I am full far therefrom. And therefore I pray thee help me, and do thou for thee and for me.

(5) Yet would I not thy neighbours thou shouldst envy, Because thy life into the future reaches Beyond the punishment of their perfidies." When by its silence showed that sainted soul That it had finished putting in the woof Into that web which I had given it warped, Began I, even as he who yearneth after, Being in doubt, some counsel from a person Who seeth, and uprightly wills, and loves: "Well see I, father mine, how spurreth on The time towards me such a blow to deal me As heaviest is to him who most gives way. Therefore with foresight it is well I arm me, That, if the dearest place be taken from me, I may not lose the others by my songs. Down through the world of infinite bitterness, And o'er the mountain, from whose beauteous summit The eyes of my own Lady lifted me, And afterward through heaven from light to light, I have learned that which, if I tell again, Will be a savour of strong herbs to many. And if I am a timid friend to truth, I fear lest I may lose my life with those Who will hereafter call this time the olden."