I Made My Own House Be My

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

Here Let Dead Poetry Rise Once More To Life.

Heat Cannot Be Separated From Fire, Or Beauty From The Eternal.

To Get Back Up To The Shining World From There My Guide And I Went Into That Hidden Tunnel, And Following Its Path, We Took No Care To Rest, But Climbed: He First, Then I-so Far, Through A Round Aperture I Saw Appear Some Of The Beautiful Things That Heaven Bears, Where We Came Forth, And Once More Saw The Stars.

The Glory Of Him Who Moves Everything Penetrates Through The Universe, And Is Resplendent In One Part More And In Another Less.