2 Perhaps six thousand miles distant from us is glowing the sixth hour, and this world 3 inclines now its shadow almost to a level bed, when the mid-heaven, deep above us, begins to become such that some one star 6 loses its show so far as to this depth; and as comes the brightest handmaid of the sun farther on, so the heaven is closed 9 from light to light, even to the most beautiful. Not otherwise the Triumph, that plays forever round the Point which vanquished me, 12 seeming enclosed by that which it encloses, little by little to my sight was extinguished; wherefore to turn with my eyes to Beatrice 15 my nothing seeing and my love constrained me. If what so far as here has of her been said were all included in a single praise, 18 it would be little to furnish forth this turn. The beauty which I saw transcends measure not only beyond our reach, but surely I believe 21 that alone its Maker all can enjoy it. By this pass vanquished I concede myself more than ever by crisis of his theme 24 was overcome comic or tragic poet. For as the sun does to the sight which most trembles, even so remembrance of the sweet smile 27 my memory of its very self deprives.
RkJQdWJsaXNoZXIy MTIyMjQzNA==