The Devil Is Not As

He Whom You See-along The Downward Arc- Was William, And The Land That Mourns His Death, For Living Charles And Frederick, Now Laments; Now He Has Learned How Heaven Loves The Just Ruler, And He Would Show This Outwardly As Well, So Radiantly Visible.

He Who Awaits The Call, But Sees The Need, Already Sets His Spirit To Refuse It.

Come, Follow Me, And Leave The World To Its Babblings.

They Find Seven Cornices On Which Penitent And Redeemed Sinners Are Cleansed By The Grace Of God. On The First Cornice, That Of Pride, The Proud Are Learning Humility: Our Father, Dwelling In The Heavens, Nowise As Circumscribed, But As The Things Above, Thy First Effects, Are Dearer In Thine Eyes, Hallowed Thy Name Be And The Power Thereof, By Every Creature, As Right Meet It Is We Praise The Tender Effluence Of Thy Love. Let Come To Us, Let Come Thy Kingdom's Peace.

O You, Who In Some Pretty Boat, Eager To Listen, Have Been Following Behind My Ship, That Singing Sails Along Turn Back To Look Again Upon Your Own Shores; Tempt Not The Deep, Lest Unawares, In Losing Me, You Yourselves Might Be Lost. The Sea I Sail Has Never Yet Been Passed; Minerva Breathes, And Pilots Me Apollo, And Muses Nine Point Out To Me The Bears. You Other Few Who Have Neck Uplifted Betimes To The Bread Of Angels Upon Which One Lives And Does Not Grow Sated, Well May You Launch Your Vessel Upon The Deep Sea.