God said to them: “If you both shine with virtue’s ray, No notice take of man’s backslidings from its way. Give thanks and praises, rather, you’re not made like them. Lusts of the flesh, concupiscence, soil not your stem. 125 Had I imposed upon you that great burden, sore; The heavens would not have been your home for evermore. The chastity that decks your spirit-nature now, Reflection is of purity that lights My brow. Know, this is but a quality you hold from Me. So shall th’ accursed one not make you slaves to be!” E’en as the Prophet’s scribe, with self-importance puffed, Imagined holy wisdom’s light shone as he’d stuffed. Himself he fancied equal of prophetic quire; His raven croak as their sweet song he dared admire. 130 He who sets up to write the notes of every bird, Knows not th’ inspiring springs within their bosom stirred. Could man acquire the note of nightingale so sweet, Would he have learnt as well its love the rose to meet? Should he achieve a notion of that love’s intent; ’Twould be mere surmise, like deaf man’s from lips’ consent. Such deaf man once was made aware by some kind friend, That next door dwelt an invalid near to his end. The poor man thought within himself: “I’m deaf as stone, How can I hope to comprehend this neighbour’s tone? 135 More ’specially as sick men speak so very low. Still, go I must; mere decency demands my bow. When I advance, he’ll me address,--his lips will move. From thence I’ll glean a notion, may not quite false prove. I’ll ask him how he feels to-day, ’mid so much pain. He’ll answer surely: ‘Thank you; better in the main.’ Reply I will: ‘Most happy! How’s the appetite?’ He’ll answer: ‘Pretty good, if chicken-broth invite.’ I’ll say: ‘Good! Good! And what are you allowed to drink? Who is your doctor?’ He’ll respond, as one may think. 140 Then I’ll remark: ‘With so much talent at command, You can’t do better. Soon I hope to see you stand. I’ve had experience of his skill; I know his worth; With him as guide, you’ll not go wrong.’ So forth.”