The heavens call to you, and circle about you, displaying to you their eternal splendors, and your eye gazes only to earth.

They yearn for what they fear for.

No sadness is greater than in misery to rehearse memories of joy.

As one who sees in dreams and wakes to find the emotional impression of his vision still powerful while its parts fade from his mind - Just such am I, having lost nearly all the vision itself, while in my heart I feel the sweetness of it yet distill and fall.

O power of fantasy that steals our minds from things outside, to leave us unaware, although a thousand trumpets may blow loud--what stirs you if the senses show you nothing? Light stirs you, formed in Heaven, by itself, or by His will Who sends it down to us.

O human race, born to fly upward, wherefore at a little wind dost thou so fall?

The well heeded well heard.