I know because I believe it, that your

I know because I believe it, that your
potent arm made my soul, that you came to
give form and order to the world, so you
clothed this low human matter--look see its

humble fate--in godlike forms, that humbly,
reverently you suffered a harsh death
on the hard cross for crimes you didn't do,
chained Hell close, and for me opened the gates

to Paradise. And yet I don't love you
as I ought to; Lord, my failure pains me,
perhaps is the cause I am living this

interminable life. Mine is not a
yearning for rest, for loosening a knot
so kindly made--do You see my just need?

An image of the Italian text from Visconti's 1840 edition
From V LXXIV:234. See also B S1:96:133. No MSs; Valgrisi 97. Key

Amaro Lagrimar
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