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Who would've thought I'd wake to feel kindness-- through grace I'd know far other modes of life? the human and the sacred joined in one, God as real man, man as true God? my low desires become high aspiration, my shriveled hope warm and green? a heart free, candid, generous, stops moaning even if bent under life's vicious perils. On my neck His gentle wounded hands placed this collar I can hardly feel, for His cheerfulness and kindness can make all light; Humility's the secret key opens to the soul His inward treasures, withheld from worldly hearts burning with greed and pride. |
An image of the Italian text from Visconti's 1840 edition |
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Notes: From V XXI:181. See also B S1:54:112; R XVI:427-8. In MSs V2 & L; Valgrisi 54. Key |
