What godly beverage dost thou hope for, O my God, that might spill from that o’erflowing cup of my life ? Poet mine ! Is that thy delight to see your own creation through mine eyes, and from the parvis of mine ears, to silently listen to thy own divine harmony ? That universe of yours, through my mind, weaveth itself into words whose melody poureth from thy very joy. For love of me dost thou give thyself to me, and thus dost thou become aware of thy perfect sweetness. (id. 65) (Translated from French by Michèle Bustros) |