Paradiso: Canto XV
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A will benign, in which reveals itself
  Ever the love that righteously inspires,
  As in the iniquitous, cupidity,

Silence imposed upon that dulcet lyre,
  And quieted the consecrated chords,
  That Heaven's right hand doth tighten and relax.

How unto just entreaties shall be deaf
  Those substances, which, to give me desire
  Of praying them, with one accord grew silent?

'Tis well that without end he should lament,
  Who for the love of thing that doth not last
  Eternally despoils him of that love!

As through the pure and tranquil evening air
  There shoots from time to time a sudden fire,
  Moving the eyes that steadfast were before,

And seems to be a star that changeth place,
  Except that in the part where it is kindled
  Nothing is missed, and this endureth little;

So from the horn that to the right extends
  Unto that cross's foot there ran a star
  Out of the constellation shining there;

Nor was the gem dissevered from its ribbon,
  But down the radiant fillet ran along,
  So that fire seemed it behind alabaster.

Thus piteous did Anchises' shade reach forward,
  If any faith our greatest Muse deserve,
  When in Elysium he his son perceived.

"O sanguis meus, O superinfusa
  Gratia Dei, sicut tibi, cui
  Bis unquam Coeli janua reclusa?"

Thus that effulgence; whence I gave it heed;
  Then round unto my Lady turned my sight,
  And on this side and that was stupefied;

For in her eyes was burning such a smile
  That with mine own methought I touched the bottom
  Both of my grace and of my Paradise!

Then, pleasant to the hearing and the sight,
  The spirit joined to its beginning things
  I understood not, so profound it spake;

Nor did it hide itself from me by choice,
  But by necessity; for its conception
  Above the mark of mortals set itself.

And when the bow of burning sympathy
  Was so far slackened, that its speech descended
  Towards the mark of our intelligence,

The first thing that was understood by me
  Was "Benedight be Thou, O Trine and One,
  Who hast unto my seed so courteous been!"

And it continued: "Hunger long and grateful,
  Drawn from the reading of the mighty volume
  Wherein is never changed the white nor dark,

Thou hast appeased, my son, within this light
  In which I speak to thee, by grace of her
  Who to this lofty flight with plumage clothed thee.

Thou thinkest that to me thy thought doth pass
  From Him who is the first, as from the unit,
  If that be known, ray out the five and six;

And therefore who I am thou askest not,
  And why I seem more joyous unto thee
  Than any other of this gladsome crowd.

Thou think'st the truth; because the small and great
  Of this existence look into the mirror
  Wherein, before thou think'st, thy thought thou showest.

But that the sacred love, in which I watch
  With sight perpetual, and which makes me thirst
  With sweet desire, may better be fulfilled,

Now let thy voice secure and frank and glad
  Proclaim the wishes, the desire proclaim,
  To which my answer is decreed already."

To Beatrice I turned me, and she heard
  Before I spake, and smiled to me a sign,
  That made the wings of my desire increase;

Then in this wise began I: "Love and knowledge,
  When on you dawned the first Equality,
  Of the same weight for each of you became;

 

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