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To Get Back Up To The Shining World From There My Guide And I Went Into That Hidden Tunnel, And Following Its Path, We Took No Care To Rest, But Climbed: He First, Then I-so Far, Through A Round Aperture I Saw Appear Some Of The Beautiful Things That Heaven Bears, Where We Came Forth, And Once More Saw The Stars.

-Dante Alighieri

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To Get Back Up

Dante Alighieri

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To Get Back Up To The Shining World From There My Guide And I Went Into That Hidden Tunnel, And Following Its Path, We Took No Care To Rest, But Climbed: He First, Then I-so Far, Through A Round Aperture I Saw Appear Some Of The Beautiful Things That Heaven Bears, Where We Came Forth, And Once More Saw The Stars.

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More From Dante Alighieri

Through Me You Go Into A City Of Weeping; Through Me You Go Into Eternal Pain; Through Me You Go Amongst The Lost People

There Is A Place In Hell Called The Malebolge.

We Have No Hope And Yet We Live In Longing.

You Shall Leave Everything You Love.

The Day That Man Allows True Love To Appear, Those Things Which Are Well Made Will Fall Into Cofusion And Will Overturn Everything We Believe To Be Right And True.

Blessed Are The Peacemakers, For They Have Freed Themselves From Sinful Wrath.

Sta Come Torre Ferma, Che Non Crolla Giammai La Cima Per Soffiar De' Venti. Be Steadfast As A Tower That Doth Not Bend Its Stately Summit To The Tempest's Shock.

A Mighty Flame Followeth A Tiny Spark.

Like The Lark That Soars In The Air, First Singing, Then Silent, Content With The Last Sweetness That Satiates It, Such Seemed To Me That Image, The Imprint Of The Eternal Pleasure.

In That Part Of The Book Of My Memory Before Which Little Can Be Read, There Is A Heading, Which Says: ‘incipit Vita Nova: Here Begins The New Life’.

This Miserable Way Is Taken By The Sorry Souls Of Those Who Lived Without Disgrace And Without Praise. They Now Commingle With The Coward Angels, The Company Of Those Who Were Not Rebels Nor Faithful To Their God, But Stood Apart. The Heavens, That Their Beauty Not Be Lessened, Have Cast Them Out, Nor Will Deep Hell Receive Them - Even The Wicked Cannot Glory In Them.

O Faithful Conscience, Delicately Pure, How Doth A Little Failing Wound Thee Sore!

From A Little Spark May Burst A Flame.

Lost Are We, And Are Only So Far Punished, That Without Hope We Live On In Desire.

Heat Cannot Be Separated From Fire, Or Beauty From The Eternal.

It Was The Hour Of Morning, When The Sun Mounts With Those Stars That Shone With It When God's Own Love First Set In Motion Those Fair Things

Perceive Ye Not That We Are Worms, Designed To Form The Angelic Butterfly, That Goes To Judgment, Leaving All Defence Behind? Why Doth Your Mind Take Such Exalted Pose, Since Ye, Disabled, Are As Insects, Mean As Worm Which Never Transformation Knows?

If The Present World Go Astray, The Cause Is In You, In You It Is To Be Sought.

As One Who Sees In Dreams And Wakes To Find The Emotional Impression Of His Vision Still Powerful While Its Parts Fade From His Mind - Just Such Am I, Having Lost Nearly All The Vision Itself, While In My Heart I Feel The Sweetness Of It Yet Distill And Fall.

Be Like A Solid Tower Whose Brave Height Remains Unmoved By All The Winds That Blow; The Man Who Lets His Thoughts Be Turned Aside By One Thing Or Another, Will Lose Sight Of His True Goal, His Mind Sapped Of Its Strength.

In Judgement Be Ye Not Too Confident, Even As A Man Who Will Appraise His Corn When Standing In A Field, Ere It Is Ripe.

O Conscience, Upright And Stainless, How Bitter A Sting To Thee Is A Little Fault!

Of My Sowing Such Straw I Reap. O Human Folk, Why Set The Heart There Where Exclusion Of Partnership Is Necessary

O Foolish Anxiety Of Wretched Man, How Inconclusive Are The Arguments Which Make Thee Beat Thy Wings Below!

The Wisest Are The Most Annoyed At The Loss Of Time.

Nature Is The Art Of God.

The Mind Which Is Created Quick To Love, Is Responsive To Everything That Is Pleasing, Soon As By Pleasure It Is Awakened Into Activity. Your Apprehensive Faculty Draws An Impression From A Real Object, And Unfolds It Within You, So That It Makes The Mind Turn Thereto. And If, Being Turned, It Inclines Towards It, That Inclination Is Love; That Is Nature, Which Through Pleasure Is Bound Anew Within You.

The Devil Is Not As Black As He Is Painted.

These Have Not The Hope To Die.

If You're Asking For A Date, Forget It. 'cause I Make It A Point Not To Go Out With Women Who Shoot Me In The Head!

...everything That Is, Desires To Be. As We Act, We Unfold Our Being. Enjoyment Naturally Follows, For A Thing Desired Always Brings Delight.

I Love To Doubt As Well As Know.

Curb Your Talent Lest It Speed Where Virtue Does Not Guide.

I Saw A Point That Shone With Light So Keen, The Eye That Sees It Cannot Bear Its Blazing; The Star That Is For Us The Smallest One Would Seem A Moon If Placed Beside This Point.

Mankind, Why Do Ye Set Your Hearts On Things That, Of Necessity, May Not Be Shared?

Fame Is Not Won On Downy Plumes Nor Under Canopies; The Man Who Consumes His Days Without Obtaining It Leaves Such Mark Of Himself On Earth As Smoke In Air Or Foam On Water.

O Mortal Men, Be Wary Of How Ye Judge.

Segui Il Tuo Corso Et Lascia Dir Les Genti. (follow Your Road And Let The People Say).

My Course Is Set For An Uncharted Sea.

They Had Their Faces Twisted Toward Their Haunches And Found It Necessary To Walk Backward, Because They Could Not See Ahead Of Them. ...and Since He Wanted So To See Ahead, He Looks Behind And Walks A Backward Path.

This Sorrow Weighs Upon The Melancholy Souls Of Those Who Lived Without Infamy Or Praise.

He Who Sees A Need And Waits To Be Asked For Help Is As Unkind As If He Had Refused It.

At Grief So Deep The Tongue Must Wag In Vain; The Language Of Our Sense And Memory Lacks The Vocabulary Of Such Pain.

…all Things Created Have An Order In Themselves, And This Begets The Form That Lets The Universe Resemble God.

A Fair Request Should Be Followed By The Deed In Silence.

Heaven Wheels Above You, Displaying To You Her Eternal Glories, And Still Your Eyes Are On The Ground.

Infinite Goodness Has Such Wide Arms.

The Glory Of Him Who Moves Everything Penetrates Through The Universe, And Is Resplendent In One Part More And In Another Less.

The Purpose Of The Whole [the Comedy] And Of This Portion [the Paradiso] Is To Remove Those Who Are Living In This Life From The State Of Wretchedness, And To Lead Them To The State Of Blessedness.

The More Souls Who Resonate Together, The Greater The Intensity Of Their Love... And, Mirror-like... Each Soul Reflects The Other.

Through Me The Way Into The Suffering City, Through Me The Way To The Eternal Pain, Through Me The Way That Runs Among The Lost. Justice Urged On My High Artificer; My Maker Was Divine Authority, The Highest Wisdom, And The Primal Love. Before Me Nothing But Eternal Things Were Made, And I Endure Eternally. Abandon Every Hope, Ye Who Enter Here.

L'amor Che Move Il Sole E L'altre Stelle (the Love That Moves The Sun And The Other Stars)

He Whom You See-along The Downward Arc- Was William, And The Land That Mourns His Death, For Living Charles And Frederick, Now Laments; Now He Has Learned How Heaven Loves The Just Ruler, And He Would Show This Outwardly As Well, So Radiantly Visible.

Thou Shall Know By Experience How Salt The Savor Is Of Others' Bread, And How Sad A Path It Is To Climb And Descend Another's Stairs.

Beauty Awakens The Soul To Act.

Consider Your Origins: You Were Not Made To Live As Brutes, But To Follow Virtue And Knowledge.

Love And The Gentle Heart Are But The Same Thing.

Follow Your Own Star!

Love With Delight Discourses In My Mindupon My Lady's Admirable Gifts...beyond The Range Of Human Intellect.

Oh Foolish Desires Of Mortals! How Weak Are The Reasons That Lead Us To Not Take Off Our Flight From The Ground.

There's Not The Least Thing Can Be Said Or Done, But People Will Talk And Find Fault.

I Made My Own House Be My Gallows.

The Secret Of Getting Things Done Is To Act!

But If, As Morning Rises, Dreams Are True.

Small Projects Need Much More Help Than Great.

But The Stars That Marked Our Starting Fall Away. We Must Go Deeper Into Greater Pain, For It Is Not Permitted That We Stay.

Justice Divine Has Weighed: The Doom Is Clear. All Hope Renounce, Ye Lost, Who Enter Here.

And When He Had Put His Hand On Mine With A Cheerful Look, Wherefrom I Took Courage, He Brought Me Within To The Secret Things. Here Sighs, Laments, And Deep Wailings Were Resounding Through The Starless Air; Wherefore At First I Wept Thereat. Strange Tongues, Horrible Utterances, Words Of Woe, Accents Of Anger, Voices High And Faint, And Sounds Of Hands With Them, Were Making A Tumult Which Whirls Always In That Air Forever Dark, Like The Sand When The Whirlwind Breathes.

The Truth Thy Speech Doth Show, Within My Heart Reproves The Swelling Pride.

Do Not Be Afraid; Our Fate Cannot Be Taken From Us; It Is A Gift.

The Heavens Call To You, And Circle About You, Displaying To You Their Eternal Splendors, And Your Eye Gazes Only To Earth.

In The Midway Of This Our Mortal Life, I Found Me In A Gloomy Wood, Astray, Gone From The Path Direct.

I Saw Within Its Depth How It Conceives All Things In A Single Volume Bound By Love Of Which The Universe Is The Scattered Leaves.

Midway Upon The Journey Of Our Life

But Already My Desire And My Will Were Being Turned Like A Wheel, All At One Speed, By The Love Which Moves The Sun And The Other Stars

All Hope Abandon, Ye Who Enter Here!

Your Fame Is As The Grass, Whose Hue Comes And Goes, And His Might Withers It By Whose Power It Sprang From The Lap Of The Earth.

In That Part Of The Book Of My Memory Before The Which Is Little That Can Be Read, There Is A Rubric, Saying, Incipit Vita Nova. Under Such Rubric I Find Written Many Things; And Among Them The Words Which I Purpose To Copy Into This Little Book; If Not All Of Them, At The Least Their Substance.

If You Give People Light, They Will Find Their Own Way.

Mankind Is At Its Best When It Is Most Free.

O Human Race, Born To Fly Upward, Wherefore At A Little Wind Dost Thou So Fall?

Pride, Envy, Avarice - These Are The Sparks Have Set On Fire The Hearts Of All Men.

Be As A Tower Firmly Set; Shakes Not Its Top For Any Blast That Blows.

No One Thinks Of How Much Blood It Costs.

I Found Myself Within A Forest Dark, For The Straightfoward Pathway Had Been Lost. Ah Me! How Hard A Thing Is To Say, What Was This Forest Savage, Rough, And Stern, Which In The Very Thought Renews The Fear. So Bitter Is It, Death Is Little More.

Lying In A Featherbed Will Bring You No Fame, Nor Staying Beneath The Quilt, And He Who Uses Up His Life Without Achieving Fame Leaves No More Vestige Of Himself On Earth Than Smoke In The Air Or Foam Upon The Water.

And We Came Forth To Contemplate The Stars.

Imagination, That Dost So Abstract Us That We Are Not Aware, Not Even When A Thousand Trumpets Sound About Our Ears!

Give Unto Us This Day The Daily Manna Without Which, In This Desert Where We Dwell, He Must Go Backward Who Would Most Advance.

He Who Shall Never Be Divided From Me Kissed My Mouth All Trembling.

Love Can Move The Sun And The Stars.

Remember Tonight... For It Is The Beginning Of Always.

Clock Is Ticking

He Is, Most Of All, L'amor Che Move Il Sole E L'altre Stelle.

Honor Is The Greatest Poet.

Everywhere Is Here And Every When Is Now.

As Little Flowers, Which The Chill Of Night Has Bent And Huddled, When The White Sun Strikes, Grow Straight And Open Fully On Their Stems, So Did I, Too, With My Exhausted Force.

Justice Does Not Descend From Its Own Pinnacle.

I Presumed To Fix My Look On The Eternal Light So Long That I Consumed My Sight Thereon.

The More A Thing Is Perfect, The More It Feels Pleasure And Likewise Pain.

I Wept Not — So To Stone I Grew Within.

My Soul Tasted That Heavenly Food, Which Gives New Appetite While It Satiates.

I, Answering In The End, Began: 'alas, How Many Yearning Thoughts, What Great Desire, Have Lead Them Through Such Sorrow To Their Fate?

Doubting Pleases Me No Less Than Knowing

A Prayer May Chance To Rise From One Whose Heart Lives In The Grace Of God. A Prayer From Any Other Is Unheeded.

It May Be That A More Subtle Person Would Find For This Thing A Reason Of Greater Subtlety: But Such Is The Reason That I Find, And That Liketh Me Best.

In The Middle Of The Journey Of Our Life I Came To Myself Within A Dark Wood Where The Straight Way Was Lost.

Fate's Arrow, When Expected, Travels Slow.

... Nessun Maggior Dolore Che Ricordarsi Del Tempo Felice Nella Miseria. (there Is No Greater Pain Than To Remember A Happy Time When One Is In Misery.)

Love, That All Gentle Hearts So Quickly Know.

The Only Fit Reply To A Fit Request Is Silence And The Fact.

The Well Heeded Well Heard.

They Yearn For What They Fear For.

To Run Over Better Waters The Little Vessel Of My Genius Now Hoists Her Sails, As She Leaves Behind Her A Sea So Cruel.

Reason Flies When Following The Senses, On Clipped Wings.

Three Things Remain With Us From Paradise: Stars, Flowers And Children.

At The Midpoint On The Journey Of Life, I Found Myself In A Dark Forest, For The Clear Path Was Lost.

Thus You May Understand That Love Alone Is The True Seed Of Every Merit In You, And Of All Acts For Which You Must Atone.

Consider The Sea's Listless Chime: Time's Self It Is, Made Audible.

For She Doth Make My Veins And Pulses Tremble.

Open Your Mind To What I Shall Disclose, And Hold It Fast Within You; He Who Hears, But Does Not Hold What He Has Heard, Learns Nothing. Beatrice - Canto V 40-42

Do Not Desert Me When I Need You Most. And If We Can't Go On Together, Let's Retrace Our Steps As Quickly As We Can.

Compassion Is Not A Passion; Rather A Noble Disposition Of The Soul, Made Ready To Receive Love, Mercy, And Other Charitable Passions.

Midway Along The Journey Of Our Life I Woke To Find Myself In A Dark Wood, For I Had Wandered Off From The Straight Path. How Hard It Is To Tell What It Was Like, This Wood Of Wilderness, Savage And Stubborn (the Thought Of It Brings Back All My Old Fears), A Bitter Place! Death Could Scarce Be Bitterer. But If I Would Show The Good That Came Of It I Must Talk About Things Other Than The Good.

What Shall One Do With The Verse, If He Knows Not That?

Come, Follow Me, And Leave The World To Its Babblings.

And Here Dante Describes An Evidently Spherical World... "the Lamp Of The World [the Sun] Rises To Mortals Through Different Passages; But Through That Which Joins Four Circles With Three Crosses [the Position Of The Rising Sun At The Vernal Equinox] It Issues With A Better Course And Conjoined With Better Stars, And Tempers And Stamps The Wax Of The World More After Its Own Fashion. Although Such An Outlet Had Made Morning There And Evening Here, And All The Hemisphere There Was Bright, And The Other Dark..."

Nothing Which Is Harmonized By The Bond Of The Muse Can Be Changed From Its Own To Another Language Without Destroying Its Sweetness

If Your World Isn't Right, The Cause Is In You.

The Greatest Gift That God In His Bounty Made In Creation, And The Most Conformable To His Goodness, And That Which He Prizes The Most, Was The Freedom Of Will, With Which The Creatures With Intelligence, They All And They Alone, Were And Are Endowed.

Deed Done Is Well Begun.

A Man's Renown Is Like The Hue Of Grass, Which Comes And Goes.

He Who Awaits The Call, But Sees The Need, Already Sets His Spirit To Refuse It.

Love Insists The Loved Loves Back

The Three Divine Are In This Hierarchy, First The Dominions, And The Virtues Next; And The Third Order Is That Of The Powers. The In The Dances Twain Penultimate The Principalities And Archangels Wheel; The Last Is Wholly Of Angelic Sports. These Orders Upward All Of Them Are Gazing, And Downward So Prevail, That Unto God They All Attracted Are And All Attract.

The Whole Universe Is But The Footprint Of The Divine Goodness.

Where The Way Is Hardest, There Go Thou; Follow Your Own Path And Let People Talk.

He Is Not Always At Ease Who Laughs.

There, Pride, Avarice, And Envy Are The Tongues Men Know And Heed, A Babel Of Depsair

O You, Who In Some Pretty Boat, Eager To Listen, Have Been Following Behind My Ship, That Singing Sails Along Turn Back To Look Again Upon Your Own Shores; Tempt Not The Deep, Lest Unawares, In Losing Me, You Yourselves Might Be Lost. The Sea I Sail Has Never Yet Been Passed; Minerva Breathes, And Pilots Me Apollo, And Muses Nine Point Out To Me The Bears. You Other Few Who Have Neck Uplifted Betimes To The Bread Of Angels Upon Which One Lives And Does Not Grow Sated, Well May You Launch Your Vessel Upon The Deep Sea.

Hope Not Ever To See Heaven. I Come To Lead You To The Other Shore; Into The Eternal Darkness; Into Fire And Ice.

So May Heaven's Grace Clear Away The Foam From The Conscience, That The River Of Thy Thoughts May Roll Limpid Thenceforth.

O How Far Remov'd, Predestination! Is Thy Foot From Such As See Not The First Cause Entire: And Ye, O Mortal Men! Be Wary How Ye Judge: For We, Who See The Maker, Know Not Yet The Number Of The Chosen; And Esteem Such Scantiness Of Knowledge Our Delight: For All Good Is, In That Primal Good, Concentrate; And God's Will And Ours Are One.

When We Encountered A Band Of Souls Coming Along The Barrier, And Each Was Gazing At Us In The Evening People Gaze At One Another Under The New Moon

All Of Nature Is God's Art.

A Rapid Bolt Will Rend The Clouds Apart, And Every Single White Be Seared By Wounds. I Tell You This. I Want It All To Hurt.

E Quindi Uscimmo A Riveder Le Stelle" ("and Thence We Came Forth To See Again The Stars")

A Backward Glance Can Often Lift The Heart.

How Come I Never Meet Any Nice Girls?

The Mouse Had Fallen In With Evil Cats.

Here We Find The Moat Of Thieves. And Just As A Lizard, With A Quick, Slick Slither, Flicks Across The Highway From Hedge To Hedge, Fleeter Than A Flash, In The Battering Dog-day Weather, A Fiery Little Monster, Livid, In A Rage, Black As Any Peppercorn, Came And Made A Dart At The Guts Of The Others, And Leaping To Engage One Of The Pair, It Pierced Him At The Part Through Which We First Draw Food; Then Loosed Its Grip And Fell Before Him, Outstretched And Apart.

In His Will, Our Peace.

I Was So Full Of Sleep At The Time That I Left The True Way.

I Am The Way Into The City Of Woe. I Am The Way To A Forsaken People. I Am The Way Into Eternal Sorrow. Sacred Justice Moved My Architect. I Was Raised Here By Divine Omnipotence, Primordial Love And Ultimate Intellect. Only Those Elements Time Cannot Wear Were Made Before Me, And Beyond Time I Stand. Abandon All Hope Ye Who Enter Here.

The Infernal Storm, Eternal In Its Rage, Sweeps And Drives The Spirits With Its Blast; It Whirls Them, Lashing Them With Punishment. When They Are Swept Back Past Their Place Of Judgment Then Come The Shrieks, Laments, And Anguished Cries; There They Blaspheme God's Almighty Power.

Ah! Justice Of Our God! Who Else Could Stow Such Travails New And Pains As Met My Glance!

O You Proud Christians, Wretched Souls And Small,/ Who By The Dim Lights Of Your Twisted Minds/ Believe You Prosper Even As You Fall,/ Can You Not See That We Are Worms, Each One/ Born To Become The Angelic Butterfly/ That Flies Defenseless To The Judgement Throne?

As Phantoms Frighten Beasts When Shadows Fall.

It Is Necessity And Not Pleasure That Compels Us.

Midway In Our Life's Journey, I Went Astray From The Straight Road And Woke To Find Myself Alone In A Dark Wood.

The Hottest Places In Hell Are Reserved For Those Who, In Time Of Great Moral Crisis, Maintain Their Neutrality. [this Miserable Mode Maintain The Melancholy Souls Of Those Who Lived Withouten Infamy Or Praise.]

Consider That This Day Ne'er Dawns Again.

I Am Made Of God, Through His Grace. Such That Your Misery Touches Me Not, Nor Does Flame Of That Burning Assail Me.

Less Shame A Greater Fault Would Palliate.

Those Ancients Who In Poetry Presented The Golden Age, Who Sang Its Happy State, Perhaps, In Their Parnassus, Dreamt This Place. Here, Mankind's Root Was Innocent; And Here Were Every Fruit And Never-ending Spring; These Streams--the Nectar Of Which Poets Sing.

So That The Universe Felt Love, By Which, As Somebelieve, The World Has Many Times Been Turned To Chaos. And At That Moment This Ancient Rock, Here And Elsewhere, Fell Broken Into Pieces.

There Is No Greater Sorrow Than To Recall Happiness In Times Of Misery.

The Experience Of This Sweet Life.

Love Hath So Long Possessed Me For His Own And Made His Lordship So Familiar.

Oh Blind! Oh Ignorant, Self-seeking Cupidity Which Spurs Us So In The Short Mortal Life And Steeps Us So Through All Eternity!

Abandon Every Hope, You Who Enter.

He Loves But Little Who Can Say And Count In Words, How Much He Loves.

The Loser, When A Game Of Dice Is Done, Remains Behind Reviewing Every Roll Sadly, And Sadly Wiser, And Alone.

Will Cannot Be Quenched Against Its Will.

Many Have Justice In Their Hearts, But Slowly It Is Let Fly, For It Comes Not Without Council To The Bow.

Often A Retrospect Delights The Mind.

Here Let Dead Poetry Rise Once More To Life.

Behold A God More Powerful Than I Who Comes To Rule Over Me.

Without Hope We Live In Desire.

Pure Essence, And Pure Matter, And The Two Joined Into One Were Shot Forth Without Flaw, Like Three Bright Arrows From A Three-string Bow.

From There We Came Outside And Saw The Stars

Go Right On And Listen As Thou Goest.

Love Is The Source Of Every Virtue In You And Of Every Deed Which Deserves Punishment.

Abandon Hope, All Ye Who Enter Here. [omnes Relinquite Spes, O Vos Intrantes]

Because Your Question Searches For Deep Meaning, I Shall Explain In Simple Words

The Human Race Finds Itself In A Better Situation When It Has The Higher Level Of Freedom.

No Sorrow Is Deeper Than The Remembrance Of Happiness When In Misery.

Eternal Love Made Me.

If A Thief Helps A Poor Man Out Of The Spoils Of His Thieving, We Must Not Call That Charity.

As Fall The Light Autumnal Leaves, One Still The Other Following, Till The Bough Strews All Its Honors On The Earth Below.

If Thou Follow Thy Star, Thou Canst Not Fail Of Glorious Heaven.

There Is A Gentle Thought That Often Springs To Life In Me, Because It Speaks Of You.

Not One Drop Of Blood Is Left Inside My Veins That Does Not Throb: I Recognize Signs Of The Ancient Flame.

O Power Of Fantasy That Steals Our Minds From Things Outside, To Leave Us Unaware, Although A Thousand Trumpets May Blow Loud--what Stirs You If The Senses Show You Nothing? Light Stirs You, Formed In Heaven, By Itself, Or By His Will Who Sends It Down To Us.

Unity In Wills Cannot Be Unless There Is One Will Dominating And Ruling All The Rest To Oneness... Wills Of Mortals Have Need Of A Directive Principle... Therefore For The Well-being Of The World, There Should Be A Monarchy.

Love, That Exempts No One Beloved From Loving, Seized Me With Pleasure Of This Man So Strongly, That, As Thou Seest, It Doth Not Yet Desert Me.

There Is No Greater Pain Than To Remember, In Our Present Grief, Past Happiness.

I Am Searching For That Which Every Man Seeks-peace And Rest.

In Each Fire There Is A Spirit; Each One Is Wrapped In What Is Burning Him.

As, Pricked Out With Less And Greater Lights, Between The Poles Of The Universe, The Milky Way So Gleameth White As To Set Very Sages Questioning.

And As He, Who With Laboring Breath Has Escaped From The Deep To The Shore, Turns To The Perilous Waters And Gazes.

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