From A Small Spark, Great Flame Has

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

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

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..."

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

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