When after so many ordeals, God
pities us, and light comes, the soul believes;
the Father put his Son in this world to
recover us, to quicken the shriveled
like sweet clean rain; here I make amends, am
content. Here dew washes over us all,
we see what we are, are mirrored. Courage--
measures faith in His love, rule, and prompting.
So it's right to wait, sit by this flowing
vast fountain whose streams are sweetest to those
who have known the greatest thirst, and define
for us what such sweetness means: these waters
strengthen the roused will, cheer a living soul
who must make her way through this fearful world.
|An image of the Italian text from Visconti's 1840 edition|
From V CLXXXII:342. See also Bullock S2, 20, 187; MSs V2 (Ve2); 1548 Valgrisi; 1760 Rota. Key