He loves but little who can say and count in words, how much he loves.

Perceive ye not that we are worms, designed To form the angelic butterfly, that goes To judgment, leaving all defence behind? Why doth your mind take such exalted pose, Since ye, disabled, are as insects, mean As worm which never transformation knows?

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 mountain is so formed that it is always wearisome when one begins the ascent, but becomes easier the higher one climbs.

From there we came outside and saw the stars

The whole universe is but the footprint of the Divine goodness.

Nature is the art of God.