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The following are the concluding verses: "But, above all, thou grand Catholicon, Or by what useful Name so'er thou'rt call'd, Thou Sweet Composer of the tortur'd Mind!
"You my blood, a myself better than myself." "Thou art my heart, my lustre." "You my saint, my only joy." "I yield thee the palm of love, and how great so'er mine be, I believe thou lovest me still more, for thou art the lord." "No; the palm is yours, my goddess, my Virgin Marie." "No; I am thy servant, thine handmaiden, a nothing thou canst crush to atoms."
On earth no wave How clear so'er that would not seem to have Some mixture in itself, compared with this Transpicuous clear; yet darkly on it rolled, Darkly beneath perpetual gloom, which ne'er Admits or sun or moon-light there to shine." Well, is not it the very place? And did not Dante, who knew Italy as few have known it, do well to remember it when he would describe for us the Earthly Paradise?
"You my blood, a myself better than myself." "Thou art my heart, my lustre." "You my saint, my only joy." "I yield thee the palm of love, and how great so'er mine be, I believe thou lovest me still more, for thou art the lord." "No; the palm is yours, my goddess, my Virgin Marie." "No; I am thy servant, thine handmaiden, a nothing thou canst crush to atoms."
The man who sees the folly of his conduct and whose conscience will not let him sleep, the man who realizes the blighting power of sin and yet seems powerless to heed the call of conscience, is in a pitiful condition. "And I know of the future judgment, How dreadful so'er it may be, That to sit alone with my conscience Would be judgment enough for me."
Had they desired to keep me chaste, Thy face so fair they should have veiled. Rizwan hath put him our from paradise, for fear The black-eyed girls of heaven be tempted with the wight. Men blame him for his pride; but the full moon's excuse, How proud so'er it be, finds favour in our sight.
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