Thereafter in the M of the fifth word Remained they so arranged, that Jupiter Seemed to be silver there with gold inlaid. And other lights I saw descend where was The summit of the M, and pause there singing The good, I think, that draws them to itself. Then, as in striking upon burning logs Upward there fly innumerable sparks, Whence fools are wont to look for auguries, More than a thousand lights seemed thence to rise, And to ascend, some more, and others less, Even as the Sun that lights them had allotted; And, each one being quiet in its place, The head and neck beheld I of an eagle Delineated by that inlaid fire. He who there paints has none to be his guide; But Himself guides; and is from Him remembered That virtue which is form unto the nest. The other beatitude, that contented seemed At first to bloom a lily on the M, By a slight motion followed out the imprint. O gentle star! what and how many gems Did demonstrate to me, that all our justice Effect is of that heaven which thou ingemmest! Wherefore I pray the Mind, in which begin Thy motion and thy virtue, to regard Whence comes the smoke that vitiates thy rays; So that a second time it now be wroth With buying and with selling in the temple Whose walls were built with signs and martyrdoms! O soldiery of heaven, whom I contemplate, Implore for those who are upon the earth All gone astray after the bad example! Once ’twas the custom to make war with swords; But now ’tis made by taking here and there The bread the pitying Father shuts from none. Yet thou, who writest but to cancel, think That Peter and that Paul, who for this vineyard Which thou art spoiling died, are still alive! Well canst thou say: “So steadfast my desire Is unto him who willed to live alone, And for a dance was led to martyrdom, That I know not the Fisherman nor Paul.” Paradiso: Canto XIX Appeared before me with its wings outspread The beautiful image that in sweet fruition Made jubilant the interwoven souls; Appeared a little ruby each, wherein Ray of the sun was burning so enkindled That each into mine eyes refracted it. And what it now behoves me to retrace Nor voice has e’er reported, nor ink written, Nor was by fantasy e’er comprehended; For speak I saw, and likewise heard, the beak, And utter with its voice both ‘I’ and ‘My,’ When in conception it was ‘We’ and ‘Our.’ And it began: “Being just and merciful Am I exalted here unto that glory Which cannot be exceeded by desire; And upon earth I left my memory Such, that the evil-minded people there Commend it, but continue not the story.” So doth a single heat from many embers Make itself felt, even as from many loves Issued a single sound from out that image.