Today in the midst of this world I see
a radiant lamp with two clear flames each
of us expects to take nourishment from--
think, just for us He endured that much pain:
His love of the Father whose vital light
cast a splendor over that scene as first
the nails went in, is one; that absolute
devotion to us, which consumed Him when
limitless strength seemed spent, while He circled
the earth with light, the other. This I see
because when His lamp seemed spent, it wasn't.
No, He'd given immortality with
His life to those He had chosen to dwell
in that eternal day of Paradise.
|An image of the Italian text from Visconti's 1840 edition|
From V CXLIX:309. See also B S1:160:165; no MSs; Valgrisi 161. A twentieth in a series meditating Christ. Key